


Faded

by turva_auto



Series: Jääkiekko - ice hockey [18]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2016 World Cup of Hockey, Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, alternative universe, mentions of assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 20:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11767377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turva_auto/pseuds/turva_auto
Summary: The WCOH changed their lives forever.  All that is left is a crying toddler about 2 or 3 years of age in his stall looking exactly like Pat. He cries silently won't let anyone touch him except Jonny. Because something inside him says Jonny is safe. Jonny has always been good to him. Not like Burish or Sharpy who pulled pranks on him or Shawzy with his weird jokes or Q always yelling for him to be better.But Jonathan doesn't really know what to do, how to take care of such a little man and what the fuck is even going on? He just knows, this should have never happened. Not to Patrick, not to his Patrick who never did anything wrong.permanently discontinued, last chapter: epilogue + summary of what would have happened.





	1. Better left in Canada

**Author's Note:**

> Also before you proceed reading, please be aware of the tags and warnings on this work. PLEASE READ THE TAGS!  
> The first chapter contains a rather graphic scene of assault that is put in italics and separated with horizontal lines for you to skip, or you can skip the entire chapter if you need to and come back to read about fluffy Kaner in the upcoming chapters - the choice is yours. The assault will remain a background theme, therefore the tags apply for the entire work.
> 
> If this work however triggers you or you are sensitive to the subjects please use the X button above and close out - same for the fact that you found this work by googling yourself or any of your close relatives/friends. Please leave immediately this dark corner of the internet. 
> 
> Special thanks go to [PensToTheEnd](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PensToTheEnd/pseuds/PensToTheEnd) , [ yassiwrites](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yassiwrites/pseuds/yassiwrites) and [ Michelle](https://sw-michelle.tumblr.com/) for an amazing beta job and moral support since I embarked on this journey.
> 
> No regrets. The title is taken from Alan Walker's song "Faded" , who inspired this entire fic with more songs than I can list here. If you want a playlist let me know.

> [cover image](http://68.media.tumblr.com/47a813458fbc32fc456dd70f9c4d8b3c/tumblr_orr8ihC7kU1rz34emo1_500.jpg)

It’s a late night out in Toronto on the 17th of September for Patrick, who had just played against Team Europe in the World Cup of Hockey. They won, because, well, why shouldn’t they - they were Team USA. The game winning goal was all his, too, coming off his own rebound, a thing of pure beauty with a spinorama to show off.  All done, no less, with just two seconds before the clock ticked over in the 3rd period, saving his team from going into overtime tied 4 to 4.

The next day was an off day, a day of rest for both Jonny and himself - a day of anticipation, when the puck would decide who their respective teams would be facing in the next round. Patrick was looking forward to playing against Canada in a few days. He had no doubts whatsoever that they would win against Canada and the Czech Republic, the other teams in their pool. Patrick did not worry that he’d beat Jonny when Team USA played Team Canada next.

The truth was that Patrick was too high on adrenaline to actually care about the outcome of that match as he hit the bars with his teammates. All giddy laughter, loose curls and a big smile, ready to dance the rest of his tension away and to have a few drinks. Meeting Jonny in the first place they hit up, all loose and just as happy was a coincidence. While they exchanged glances from across the bar, they stayed with their respective teams and things progressed quickly on the shot barometer. It didn’t take long until Patrick lost track and sight of Jonny.

Patrick figured that they probably had moved on to another - more Canadian- place by then, because it had looked like they were leaving when Patrick and his squad had taken over the balcony. On top of that, Patrick was busy chatting with his teammates and a few fans that approached them every now and again.  He politely declined every photo request, and just gave a nod of his head to the comments of ‘good game’ or ‘nice rebound’ that met him as he passed a fan on his way to the bar when it was his turn to buy a round. He barely paid attention to them as they faded back into the crowd.

It was easy small talk to deal with as Kaner started to feel the buzz.  Before long, though, he needed to head to the restroom. All that beer was begging for an out and he could really use some minutes on his own. The itchy feeling on his neck, as if his every move was being watched, was robbing him off all the fun.

He put it down to overreacting and, as he washed his hands at the sink, even considered going back to the hotel instead of moving on to the next bar with the guys.

Or, he reasoned with himself, he could just knock some more vodka down and deal with it. The itching feeling disappeared with the 8th shot, and a Jägerbomb sponsored by Kessler pushed it completely to a backseat in his mind.

He had fun, laughed and horsed around with his pals as they left in a cluster, following them down the street. He really just needed to take a leak, though. It would just take a second and he would catch up with them soon enough. Or so he thought.

The small alley between the two nondescript buildings in the downtown was dark, somewhere no one would be able to see or video him. The last thing he needed was to show up on Twitter pissing in public. Patrick quickly took care of his business, but just as he was ready to zip back up, he was jerked around.  Someone was violently shoving him into the brick wall, then a firm grip around his waist dragged him like a ragdoll a couple of steps deeper into the alley, further away from the exit and his friends.

The alcohol, combined with the suddenness of the attack, clouded Patrick’s mind. What the fuck was even happening? A hand slapping him hard across the face shook him back to reality, and as the first disorientated moment passed, Patrick started struggling in earnest. He’d be damned if he would let himself get mugged in fucking Canada.

 

*******

Patrick doesn’t know how he managed to get back to the hotel, whether he called a cab or what - he has no recollection whatsoever - all he is aware of is the scalding hot water of his hotel room shower. He had turned the temperature up as far as it would go. The images are flashing through his mind, no matter how hard he squeezes his eyes shut, pretends so hard that the world does not exist.

* * *

 

*******

_Patrick is pushed up against the rough brick, his arms pinned between his body and the wall, forcing him to stop struggling. A hand slides down his side and across the front of his pants, he expects whoever it is to reach in and take his wallet out of his pants pocket. Take the money and whatever else and make a run for it, that’s how it usually goes. He wouldn’t miss his iPhone, could easily get a new one and text people to let them know, lock the old one making it impossible for any of his private stuff to be leaked. But the hand lingers over the zipper of his pants a little too long for Patrick’s comfort. A thought crosses his mind that despite the fact the person slapped him, maybe this is one of his teammates - or even Jonny - playing a trick on him because he saw Patrick fairly buzzed earlier. It would be dirty pool but with the guys you never knew._

_“Jonny, let me go asshole. This isn’t funny.” his voice thick with uncontrolled emotion and slurring a little, even though he hadn’t had that much to drink._

_“He doesn’t deserve you. To get to touch you like this.” A voice Patrick doesn’t recognize whispers into his ear, as the large hand presses against his cock, palming it through the fabric. “I’ve been watching you all night. I saw the way you flirted every time you skated past during warm-ups. You kept looking at me while you were on the ice. You scored that goal just for me, pointing at me and yelling to celebrate. Just for me.”_

_Patrick’s mind is racing, a sick feeling developing in the pit of his stomach. This isn’t Jonny! This isn’t a joke by someone he knew. And… this isn’t just a mugging. That’s not how a mugging goes!_

_The hair on the back of his neck stands on end and the bile is rising in his throat, burning hot and messing his voice even more up, making it sound rougher._

_“P…p… please. If you hurt me, I won’t be able to play for you.” the plea clear, begging for his life, for freedom, just to get away._

_“I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve wanted you for so long.” The man licked at Patrick’s ear. “And I know you’ve wanted me. I felt your lusting gaze on me for so long.”_

 

*******

_Patrick grabs the soap and washcloth, scrubbing at his skin again, wishing he could scrub the images from his brain, could get rid of the dirt attached to every part of his body. Praying the water would grant him some relief as he roughly drags the washcloth down from his chest to his abs and over his hips. He doesn’t really want to touch further down, it hurts too much, so he avoids his private area all together but doesn’t stop scrubbing away. He just prays that the water will be enough to wash it off in the places he doesn’t want to touch._

 

*******

_The stranger's hand undoes Patrick’s belt, then works open the snap and zipper of his jeans with almost practiced ease._

_“I saw you looking at him earlier, in the bar. I don’t know why you waste your time on Toews. He doesn’t even want you! He’s not good enough for you.  You deserve someone who loves you completely, the way I do. I am going to be so good to you.”_

_The man brushes his cheek against Patrick’s, rough stubble scrapes his sensitive skin as heavy breathing echoes through his ears, sending shivers down his spine._

_“Don’t. Please.” Patrick pleads, his mind telling him he needs to get out of the alley somehow. “Not here. Come back to my hotel. We can do whatever you want there. I’ll… I’ll… be so good for you, only for you. Please.” his voice is higher pitched than usual, almost frantic._

 

_******* _

_Patrick’s skin is red; he keeps viciously scrubbing, but it won’t wash off. He can still feel it all over him, almost see it if he squints hard enough._

 

*******

_Patrick’s jeans and boxer briefs are forced down his legs. He feels the hands behind him, hears the man undo his own zipper. The weight of the bigger man keeps him firmly pinned against the wall. He must be at least 6’5” and oh god was he buff, if the hulk of his shoulders pressing Patrick down was anything to go by. He tries to struggle anyway, using all his strength to push back off and out of the way of those grabby hands. An arm comes up against the back of his head and all the man’s weight slams Patrick back against the bricks, knocking the wind out of him and dazing him for a moment. His head hurts, he feels helpless and he really wants to cry. His nose is throbbing from the impact against cold stone and wetness is gathering on his upper lip slowly making it’s way across his cheek and down his chin._

_No. No. No. His brain screams. This can’t be happening! Surely his teammates are going to realize he’s not with them.  They’ll come looking for him. He should yell. He should make noise. He should try fighting again. He kicks out with his legs into thin air, not making contact. His attacker keeps out of the way and just smirks._

_“My friends are going to be looking for me. Please!” Patrick raises his voice as he says it, maybe someone will hear, someone had to._

_“They kept walking. They knew you came in here so we could be alone. You wanted me to follow you. The way you looked at me in the bar and smiled, nodding your head for me to come. I know you’ve wanted this as long as I have.” the guy coos, rubs himself up against Patrick._

_A hand spreads the cheeks of his ass, exposing him, and he feels the head of a bare hard cock press against his opening. The sharp stab of pain as he’s violated brings a new wave of nausea over Patrick. His head is swirling and all that registers is pain, hot, unrelenting pain splitting him in half. The man hammers into him again, more forceful and agonizing than before, deeper still it feels and it goes on forever. Sharp thrusts with no time to adjust or anywhere else to go, fingers on his hips, bruising and keeping him in place while he cries and occasionally screams but it’s a useless effort. The stranger easily strangles him after the first shouts, fingers digging hard into his throat limiting his air supply but not hard enough to leave bruises. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoing off the buildings, splitting the silence in the alley. God, Patrick thinks, somebody has to hear this.  Somebody has to come help him!_

_His stomach is churning, he’s going to be sick, he knows he can’t keep it down, despite trying. It pushes the tears out of the corners of his eyes and gets his head banged against the wall as the contents of his stomach meet with the concrete to his feet. It doesn’t take long before he feels the hot fluid filling his ass as the man comes, yet it feels like an eternity until it’s over. The man pulls out, steps back and pulls his pants back up. Patrick’s legs tremble from the effort of bracing and holding himself up, his fingers digging deep into the unrelenting stone as he feels the wetness travel down his thighs, slowly. He wants to cover himself up, tries to grab for his pants in the darkness, vision blurring._

_The voice changes, no longer soft, affectionate and disgustingly sweet._

_“You fucking slut. You drop your pants and open your hole up for anyone don’t you? And you fucking like it! You like me fucking you out here where anyone can see. You loved it, don’t you? Just look at yourself all juiced up and pleading, begging me to fuck you! You’re such a cumdump Kane! Tried so hard to make me gay so you can get a good dicking you, hoe!” The guy shouts and shoves him against the cold stone, getting him off balance, making him loose the hold on the fabric and drop his pants as he staggers backwards, there’s hot fluid coming from his hairline, across his face. The skin might have split, but he can’t take stock of his body, mind still busy processing the pain in his gut that doesn’t seem to ease. He tries to make sense of the insults the unknown guy yells at him at the same time, but is unable to, the pain overshadowing everything else._

_Patrick tries to turn in on himself, to offer less surface, stunned by the assault and confused at the drastic change in his attacker’s demeanor. A hand grabs his hair and slams his head back against the bricks. He feels blinded from the pain in his skull, the face in front of him not focusing before it fades out into black._

 

_******* _

_Patrick sits down in the tub, letting the water continue to wash over him, never wanting to come out of this spot. He draws his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them tightly as he rests his head against the wall of the shower. He wants to cry. He wants to throw up.  He does neither. He just feels numb, like he’s sleeping but awake at the same time. He feels unreal, like this is not him in this shower._

_One thought comes to mind as he sits there; Would it actually be possible to drown himself in the small tub he’s curled up in? If he would just lay his head down near the drain? He really wants an out, he wants to let loose but he knows if he relents now, he will lose control altogether, so he stays where he is, muscles tensed up and cramping, pretending the world doesn’t exist and this is just one horrid fucked up nightmare, as he scrubs his body with the washcloth, drawing blood in places. He would surely wake up any second next to Jonny, from taking their afternoon nap and realize it all been his imagination. It wasn’t real. It never happened. Not to him._

* * *

 

*******

It was close to midnight when Jonny watched Team USA stumble into the bar where his team had settled down earlier in the evening. He couldn’t help letting his eyes search for the bouncing blond curls that made up the top of Patrick’s current Mohawk haircut that looked like it had a date with a mullet, but he was coming up empty. Jonny frowned. Patrick had been with them earlier, making faces at Jonny from across the bar. Why wouldn’t he still be out celebrating after that beauty of a goal?

Jonny wondered if maybe, just maybe, Patrick had learned his lesson from Madison and other incidents in the past and turned in early for the night. Jonny had lectured him about it enough times.

He looked at his watch, thinking he needed to practice what he preached. Besides, he hadn’t agreed to go out with the idea of bar hopping until the sun came up either. He finished his drink, let Segs know he was leaving and made his way back to the hotel reserved for the players. He and Pat still had adjoining rooms. It was their thing and they stuck to it - Worldcup or not.  

His gaze lingered on the dark wood door right away, but it was firmly closed. They always kept it open, fucking always, except for when they already had gone to bed or had company for the night. Jonny doubted Patrick had company since neither of them had picked anyone up in a decade, and neither of them were dating anyone at the time either.

Patrick must have turned in early after all and crashed straight away. Jonathan could hear the faint sound of a shower but that could also be from upstairs. As he turned and walked to his bed, the thought that the walls were really thin for an upscale hotel crossed his mind. In addition to the noise from the shower, Jonny could hear Parise snoring next door. He just shrugged it off, climbed under the covers and went to sleep. He’d find Patrick in the morning, for breakfast.

 

*******

Jonathan was up early enough the next morning and the door to Pat’s room was still closed, but he didn’t think much of it and went to grab some breakfast. He could outwait a Patrick Kane on his worst day. He sat there long enough talking to Bergy and Marchand that it was closing in on time for practice when he noticed that Patrick had not shown up. That in itself was unusual. Patrick never missed “the best part of the day, Jonny!”, as he never failed to remind the Canadian. But there was little Jonny could do about it. Patrick would come to him if and when he was ready to talk about whatever had gotten into his head, and they had set up to meet after practice for coffee and a trip to Pat’s favourite Jamba juice in Toronto anyway - which seriously wasn’t on their diet plan, and neither was their quality anything close to heartbreakingly beautiful, but whatever. Jonny was always weak towards Patrick’s unbreakable sweet tooth and the little guy never put on any fat anyway, so Jonny let him have it.

But this wouldn’t be the case that day, because he was 3 minutes short on taking the ice for practice when Corey waddled over to him in all his goalie gear, face frowning and indicating that he needed a minute with his captain. No one seemed to mind as they sneaked around the corner of the hallway to have some privacy, but Jonny had a bad feeling already. Something must be up if Corey was coming for him.

“What’s wrong Crow?” Jonny asked as soon as they were out of sight.

“I just heard that Kaner was taken out of the line up, they didn’t say why but he did not show up today and the media is going crazy with it. I didn’t even know what to say when the beat reporters asked me about it.” Corey whispered with a concerned look on his face.

“What the fuck?! This is the first I’ve heard about this. I had no idea.” Jonny hissed, feeling ready to fuck up practice and get back to the hotel, to get a word with his right winger.

“I thought you might know if he came down with something?” Corey hedged.

“I saw him last night, when we were out and he seemed perfectly fine. I didn’t get to talk to him but I swear he was all smiles and his usual dumb self, Corey. You know how it goes.”

“So he’s probably just wasted and hung over?” the goaltender asked, disbelief laced in his words.

“The fuck he is! He wasn’t with the team after their first bar and they barely stayed there for longer than 30 minutes. I doubt that’s what happened. Not even Pat can get down to it that fast. When I didn’t see him again last night I just assumed he turned in early.” Jonny explained, the unease he felt spreading further in his gut.

Corey’s expression relaxed for a second upon hearing that, but turned serious and worried right after.

“Maybe he got a knock from last night's game and is nursing it for a maintenance day?” he suggested, knowing that the guessing game wasn’t doing them any good.

“Yeah maybe. Get your head into practice Crow. We’ll find out soon enough.” Jonny soothed, trying to do the same as they both returned to the tunnel and took the ice. Their coach just glared at them, but no one openly complained.

 

*******

Jonny was still clueless by the end of practice and brushed off all the questions thrown at him, but he was determined to get answers by the time he got back to the hotel. He knocked so hard on their adjoining door - without any answer - that by the time he had gotten his hands on Patrick’s room keycard it was too late to go to Jamba juice, or anywhere for that matter, but not too late to investigate Patrick’s sudden disappearance from the public eye. He knocked once again at his hotel door for good measure and because his maman raised him well, before opening it and stepping inside.

The curtains were still drawn shut and by the time the door closed behind him Jonny found himself in almost darkness, just a small ray of light shining through the crack underneath the bathroom door.

“Pat?” he asked, voice low, as he slowly made his way towards the bed.

“Fuck off!” a muffled voice replied as the sheets covering Kaner’s form made a small noise in the silence surrounding them as he rolled further away from the door.

Jonny sighed, before gently sitting down on the edge of the bed, turning his body towards his friend and reaching out to touch Patrick’s shoulder.

“I love you, too. What’s wrong Kaner? I was about to beat down that door.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine in no time.” Patrick mumbled, avoiding Jonny’s touch, still not coming out of the duvet, just a few stray curls peeking out at the top.

“You could have fooled me.” Jonathan offers uncertainly. “I saw you last night and thought everything was fine, then Crow comes to me at practice and tells me you’re scratched. We’re just worried, you know?”

“I know. It’s not that bad, but the doc told me to stay put. No risk for October captain.” Patrick murmurs.

Jonny can clearly read the drawn in expression of Patrick’s body language and pushing doesn’t seem to be making him give in, so he sighs and leaves Pat be for the moment.

 

*******

Things don’t really progress after that, Kaner plays the last game of the tournament against Finland while Jonny watches, but he’s slower than usual, missing opportunities, still so drawn in and uptight. Jonny isn’t sure but it seems like Kaner has a small limp as he gets off the ice. It’s enough to get his alarm bells ringing. The door between their rooms has been kept closed and Jonny feels shut out by him. Sometimes, there were faint noises of Pat mumbling into his phone, probably answering a call of one of his sisters, but never as the usual hour long conversations he would normally have.

They part their ways after that, with Jonny and Team Canada headed for the finals against Russia and Kaner headed back to Chicago for training camp.

When Jonny finally arrives for the second week of camp, he can’t help but notice how quiet Kaner has gotten and that he’s lost more weight than he’s gained. There had been a few stray tweets about him building up over the off-season, and he’d looked good at the start of the tournament, but now, Jonny couldn’t help but wonder where all the muscle had disappeared to. Kaner was smaller than at the end of last season and then some.

 

*******

Over the first few weeks of the season, it became obvious that Jonny wasn’t the only one noticing that something was wrong, and the whispers and rumors quickly started flying around the locker room. Pat wasn’t showing up for optional skate as he usually would, because fuck optional, he needed all the skill training he could get to be on top of his game.

His best friend’s behavior started to take a few strange twists, Jonny noticed as well, that might have gone unnoticed by the rest of the team. Pat had started changing into his under armour in one of the training rooms or hid in the toilets all of a sudden, and after games or practice he sit, waiting in his stall for a prolonged period of time, seemingly lost in thought, not really taking part in any of the conversations with the guys, until most of them had trickled out before he even started over to take a shower and get dressed. He wasn’t at Artemi’s housewarming party, even though last season there hardly was one little Russian rookie without Kaner in tow.

 

*******

Coach Q even ordered Jonathan into his office to bark about how Patrick skipped team meals, game tape viewing and how hard it was to get a hold of him in general. A few marketing events of the franchise had to be filled in by other teammates because Patrick wouldn’t confirm his attendance nor show up at the requested function.

“Fucking deal with this shit show Jon! You are his best friend and his Captain. We need his head in the game!”

Well, Jonny knew all about that and deep down his heart was breaking, worry regularly keeping him awake. But even he couldn’t get a hold of his friend. All texts and calls went unanswered. For whatever reason, Pat was avoiding the team, including Jonny, unless it was mandatory that he be at a practice or game.

 

*******

When Kaner bolted out of the locker room again, barely uttering two sentences and skipping his post practice workout and shower all together, it was the final straw for Jonny. The worry gnawing at Jonathan’s nerves was more than he could take much longer, so he vowed to get to the bottom of it the next day at their pre-game morning skate.


	2. Implode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the hold up, me and my beta both got really sick and things just wouldn't work out for the benefit of the fic and your reading experience. Min said she would take full responsibility for the lack of updates but I won't let her. Life just got in the way and fucked us both over. Nothing much we can do about it now. If you are still reading this fic, interested in more I at least have some happy news. Michelle took on the beta job on short notice, even though she's a pretty busy bee too. We will try to make it work and be better in the future. I'm really grateful for her help and effort. Now enjoy the update.

**** Patrick found it harder and harder to get through training and game days. Dodging teammates and Jonny alike proved to be more of a challenge than he first expected it to be. He was targeted by opponents on the ice, enough to make it a struggle to keep his game up. The first time he got hit he crumbled to the ground, but got up easily, while as time went on he either avoided to get hit all together or took longer to get his bearings and be back on his feet - which in turn resulted into him getting taken out of the game. He didn’t miss the way Joel looked at him disapprovingly and tried to chew him out on the regular, but still he just silently disappeared back to his condo as fast as possible.

He’d gotten tight lipped with the media, too, and after a few games, there was hardly anyone even asking him questions anymore. Most of the beat reporters shuffled around Jonny, Duncs and Seabs, and Patrick never felt so happy to be left to himself. It made it easier to get out to the parking garage without being bothered, made it easier to try and ignore the… incident. And while Patrick normally enjoyed stopping to sign autographs, he’d even stopped interacting with the fans who always waited patiently for the players to stop on their way out of the garage.  Patrick just drove by and focused on getting back home as fast as Chicago traffic would allow.

Maybe he should feel ashamed for letting them down, but all understanding and concern for anyone else’s feeling had been brutally ripped out of him that night in Toronto. He found himself questioning his own sanity as the days went by, debating some days whether or not he should even keep playing hockey at all. It was a mindset of pure self-destruction and confusion blowing up his world from the edges inwards, it was only a matter of time before his world imploded.

 

*******

When Patrick barely made it to their pre-game morning skate on time, he just tried to shuffle into the room without drawing much attention. Luckily for him, Joel decided to be late himself, walking in just as Patrick got to his stall. Pat scuffed his feet on the floor, looking around the room at his teammates already in their equipment. He tried to ignore some of the judgmental gazes thrown his way, because they all knew, whoever entered after Quenneville did, was earning them all suicide drills of death, no matter if it was game day or not. It was Coach Q’s favorite punishment to reinforce discipline.

Patrick had a hard time listening as the verdict on what torture he’d have to face today was being announced. He noticed the look on Q’s face, something in it said the coach didn’t care if Patrick had beaten him in to the locker room or not. Q had pretty much had his fill of Patrick and he was in a mood to make them all pay a little for Patrick’s behavior, maybe that would get his point across to the right-winger to pick up his game.

If Patrick thought suicide drills were the worst possible torture before, then he must have summoned a new version of hell today. They were expected to work on puck possession, which in itself wasn't that awful, but it would most definitely involve battle drills along the boards, with more checking and close contact drills that required bodies hitting and pressing against each other. He felt cold and sick the moment it sank in, what he was expected to do, because there was no way around body contact, the thought of enduring that was too much. It was too close to what had happened all of a sudden. Suddenly it was as if Patrick had no control over his body. His movements slowed to almost a trickle, the rush to get dressed vanishing, getting replaced by an ice cold shiver all over like a thousand needles pricking his skin until it hurt so bad that he wanted to scream until his voice gave out. He had been hanging up his shirt in the back of his stall, but it slipped out of his fingers, which had gone numb. His head started to spin and time slowed. He turned back around to face the room as his knees gave out, making him fall back into his stall with a dull thud, a rush of panic flooding through his body.

Breathe. Just breathe. His mind tried to tell his body.

He couldn’t do this. Not this. It was more than just not wanting to do this. He can’t.  He just… can’t.

“You all got 5 minutes to be on the ice,anybody late gets an additional 20 bag skates.” Joel barked before leaving, his gaze lingering on Patrick in particular, as if to say you get 100 more of each if it’s you who’s late.

 

Patrick didn’t notice, it was as if he was watching everything through a heavy fog. His chest felt too tight, and he couldn’t make his fingers work to get changed into his gear, even if he wanted to at this point. He was too busy coaxing oxygen into his lungs without passing right the fuck out, that he barely noticed the rest of the team shuffle out of the locker room and towards the ice, leaving him to his own devices. Jonny was the last to leave, of course, and Patrick could feel the intense glare directed at him, could feel the anger and disappointment coming off of Jonny, but it still didn’t help Patrick to even move an inch of his frozen body. He wasn’t sure if he was wheezing by now or if anybody had registered the sweat that had started to trickle down his neck, if anyone was even able to see the literal elephant sitting on his chest, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

He knew deep inside he had to hurry up if he didn’t want to get scratched from the game all together, but his muscles were all locked up, keeping him on the bench immobile. The noises of Johnny’s icehouse dissolved into white noise, leaving him trapped in his own mind. He thought about running out, just leaving. Everything that he had been feeling since that night started to push all rational thought out, and it was as if he couldn’t actually remember what he was supposed to do anymore. And in that moment, as he sat there in a full on panic attack, Patrick Kane’s world finally did completely implode.

 

*******

Fifteen minutes passed by and Patrick still wasn’t on the ice. While they were all waiting for him at first, Joel gave up on it five minutes later and sent the guys off to skate, with the exception of Jonny, who found himself face to face with a very angry Joel Quenneville.

“You know Jonathan I’m sick of it. I’m sick of waiting for Patrick’s diva period to pass. You go get him out here right the fuck now, before I throttle him with the laces of his own skates. I don’t even care if he’s dressed or half naked. Go and get him, right now!” Q barked, cheeks flushed with how angry he was with Kaner’s behavior.

Jonny had known this moment was coming, had seen Q’s anger building and his patience waning, and Jonny couldn’t even be mad at him for it. Weeks ago the team had started a pool to bet on when exactly Patrick would get suspended for his behavior and lack of performance. They were pretty sure the day was coming when Bowman would just scratch Patrick from the roaster altogether, because he was missing obligations. Jon simply nodded at Quenneville before hobbling back to the locker room.

 

*******

The hallway was silent as Jonathan reached the doors with the Indian head on them. The thought of having this conversation didn’t sit well with him, the words of the speech he’d actually been preparing for over a week made him cringe. But Patrick deserved this, no he needed it! Patrick was his teammate, but he was also his friend, and the conflict caused by the urge to protect his friend versus what Jon knew he needed to do as Patrick's captain had been eating him up inside.

“Pat, Q is really jacked! You need to get your ass…” The words died on his lips as he walked into the locker room and was confronted with an empty stall where Kaner should have been. The stall Jonny was sure, Kaner had been sitting in just minutes ago, before he left the room with the others.

Patrick’s clothes were in a heap on the floor and his sweater was missing, but all his equipment was still there, neatly lined up in the shelves, untouched, skates hooked up overhead as usual. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to just skip the pre-game practice, Jon thought. That would be akin to a death wish. But then again, the way Pat had been acting lately, anything was possible.

Jonny looked around the room but couldn’t see any sign of Patrick. He listened for any noises from the showers, but the place was eerily quiet. That’s when he remembered that Patrick had been changing in a training room, so he turned to go check them out, but stopped halfway out the door. How high was the possibility of Patrick changing somewhere else if all his shit was still here? Jonny eyed the room all over again and noticed the huge clothes bin the equipment staff had wheeled in for the players to dump their stinky practice sweaters and other clothes into. There was a hint of red sweater peeking out from behind the metal bars that held the washing bag.

“Patrick, what the fuck are you doing hiding behind here?” Jonny pushed the bin aside and stopped dead in his tracks.

There was Patrick’s sweater. At first Jonny thought it was only the sweater, but it was kind of bunched up funny. Then he noticed the mop of blond curls peeking out through the neck opening. He reached down and gave the sweater a little tug down and was even more shocked by the head that popped through the opening.

Wrapped up in the sweater was a tiny body, arms not in the sleeves, but instead hugging his knees tight to his chest inside the material. His back and shoulders were moving, indicating he was crying silently, face hidden in his arms, dragging tears and snot alike across the rough fabric.

“Hey little guy. It’s okay. How’d you get in here? Did Patrick give you his sweater while he went looking for your folks?”  Jonny tried to use his best kid friendly voice.

The little face looked up at him, tears streaking the soft, pink cheeks. Jonny guessed the youngster was a toddler, 2 or 3 years old maybe, with curly blond hair and clear blue eyes that looked just like a very young Pat. That’s when Jonathan knew, he just knew. This wasn’t some stranger’s kid. This was Patrick!

Jonathan stared into those eyes for a moment. Then he looked again at the golden curls just to make sure, because a  part of him prayed that he was wrong, that there was some other explanation for this. There better be! Maybe Patrick had become a dad without letting on? Maybe one of his teammates was playing an A+ level prank on him? Maybe someone put some weird ass drugs into his Gatorade? This just couldn’t be happening for real?

The kid, Patrick, sniffled, which brought Jonny back to reality for a moment.

“Patrick?” he asked cautiously.

The toddler blinked at him but didn’t say anything. “Come here,” Jonny reached out his arms trying to pick Patrick up by the shoulders. But the little guy squirmed away from him with frightened eyes.

Jonny ran his fingers through his hair.  “Oh fuck.” This isn’t happening, he thought. How? Why? He’d heard stories but had never seen anything like this. What should he do? A million things were racing through Jonny’s mind all at once. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

A moment of anger hit him.

“What the fuck, Patrick?” he all but yelled at the toddler, who instinctively curled back in on himself, trying to hide in the sweater again. He felt drawn to the huge man in front of him, but the suddenly raised voice made him shy away from actually reaching out.

What the hell am I supposed to do with a toddler? This is so wrong! Jesus, the press are going to have a field day. Jon suddenly realized he was pacing back and forth swearing in French.

Think, Jon!

There’s a logical reason behind this. Maybe this was all a dream? Maybe he had hit his head and had another concussion? That’s it!  He’s hallucinating or maybe he’s having a nervous breakdown? Yeah! Worry over Patrick didn’t make Patrick flip out, but it’s made Jonny nuts. He kept trying to come up with some other explanation but drew a blank. Jon abruptly stopped pacing.

“Shit!  You stay here!” he said firmly, as he bolted out the door and back to the ice rink.

He still didn’t believe his own eyes and needed someone else to confirm his worst suspicions.

 

*******

Patrick peeked out from behind the bin and when he didn’t see the big man, he ran back over to where he’d first been, when he thought he woke up from a nap, falling over a couple of times as he went, feet unsteady. He didn’t cry even though his knees hurt and his hands felt raw from hitting the carpet on the floor. It wasn’t a nice carpet if it made him hurt.

He climbed up into the stall and pushed himself all the way to the back so he could hide behind the funny looking clothes and padded things. He tried to be quiet so no one would find him this time. He was sure if he was extra quiet maybe he would fall back asleep or someone would come looking for him who was not angry or yelling or any of those scary things.

 

*******

Jon ran down the runway towards the ice, frantically waving at Brent and Joel to come over to the bench.

“Where is he?” Quenneville asked right away as he saw Jonny rushing up the tunnel alone.

“Um, something’s happened. You need to see this for yourself.” Jonathan all but stuttered, tugging at Brent’s jersey for emphasis.

The two men exchanged confused looks before coming off the ice, following Jonny back to the locker room. Jon kept talking to himself in French the whole way back to the locker room, making no sense to the other two men.

“What’s wrong, Jonny?” Seabrook asked, confused. He’d never seen his captain this riled up over anything.

Joel growled deep in his throat. “What did he do? Set the facility on fire?”

Jonny didn’t answer before they reached the door, opening it slowly before entering with the others in tow.

“So what is this shit! We came here so you could show me that he upped his level by chickening out of practice?” Coach Q boomed, having quickly looked around the presumably empty locker room, while Brent’s eye caught the movement in the back of Kaner’s stall.

“No! It’s complicated!? I think he’s still here, look his stuff it’s all right there.” Jonathan tried to argue with the angry Joel. Jon went over and looked behind the clothes bin, but the toddler wasn’t there.

“Where did he go? He was right here.” Jon kept mumbling to himself, walking around looking everywhere like he lost something.

“What are you talking about Toews?” Q was getting frustrated. First his star winger goes all diva and then his captain goes off the deep end.

 

*******

Brent had spotted the sweater in the back of Kaner’s stall. He thought it looked sort of odd the way it was tossed back there, and then to his astonishment, it moved.  Brent went over and crouched down in front of Kaner’s stall. He shook his gloves off and carefully reached out to tug on the sweater, the same way Jonny had before.  He could see the same patch of blond curls Jon had seen sticking out of the top.

“Well, who do we have here?” Brent whispered gently.

Patrick had been sobbing quietly until Brent’s hand brushed against his arm.  The scream he let out shattered the silence of the room and made Brent pull his arm back with a jerk.

Patrick poked his head up through the top of the sweater again and pushed his arms into the sleeves as best he could, flailing them at Brent.

Maybe he hadn’t been quiet enough? Maybe his hiding place was not good enough if this scary guy found him?

“No! Don’t make him scream. Everyone will hear and come to see what’s going on!” Jon yelled at Brent. Hearing Patrick screech like that was terrifying him. He sounded as if Seabs had tasered him.

Brent looked as horrified as Jonny had when the realization of what has happened hits him. He tries to talk to the toddler, but all the soothing words don’t seem to calm the kid down at all. Little Patrick was just crying harder and louder each time Seabs reached for him.

“Are you telling me this is Pat, Jonathan Toews?” Joel asked unbelieving.

Jon threw his hands up in the air, “I have no idea! But I can’t think of any other possibility as to why Patrick isn’t here and this kid is. It has to be him.”

Even though there was something familiar about the giant bearded man with those grabby huge hands that kept reaching for him, Patrick wanted nothing to do with him. His screams grew louder, filling the locker room as he tried to get away from the big scary hockey player.

The gravity of the situation suddenly hit Jon full-force, though, when Patrick pushed himself all the way to the back of the stall, hiding behind the equipment hanging there.

Joel observed Seabs’s fruitless efforts silently before sighing deeply and patting him on the shoulder to get him to move aside. Patrick takes that as his opening to make his escape, trying to bold out of the stall, falling down the bench. Joel quickly grabs him, though, before he can actually hit the ground, picking him up and holding him to his chest.

“Hey kiddo, stop! Come on we're not going to eat you.” he tried in his best old grandpa voice, but that only made the little one screech louder, his head swirling around in all directions, eyes almost as big as plates, as if he was looking for a way out, little feet kicking and arms flailing, clearly not wanting to be touched or held up by Q.

Jonny’s heart was beating a mile a minute.  The volume of the screaming was loud enough to lure most of the team back in to check on the commotion. Duncs stuck his head in the door to ask what was going on and Jon just yelled at him to get the fuck out.

“I think he doesn’t like coach.” Seabs offered with a small smirk, while Jonny motioned for Q to let the kid go and sit him back onto the bench of the stall.

Once all hands were off of him, the crying got a little quieter, even though the tiny body was still shaking badly. He looked up at Jonny with red, betrayed eyes, flushed cheeks, and tears rolling down his face. Jonny had seen that look before, many times.  There was no doubt in his mind that this was Patrick.

 

*******

It only took a second of Patrick sitting on the bench before he made a run for it once again, tumbling down onto the carpet and trying to run off towards Jonny. Even though Jonny had screamed at him earlier, Jonny seemed nice enough and safe to him. Plus, it was Jonny, the big guy had said so. Jonny didn’t scare him. There was something warm and comforting about Jonny, something safe. Patrick had felt it when this big person had tried to pick him up the first time, but he was still a little scared then. But when he came back for Patrick, with the other men, Patrick felt it again.

“Come here, Pat.” Jonny opened his arms and reached down for the toddler, picked him up quickly before he could fall over again. To everyone’s surprise, Patrick raised his arms and let Jonny pick him up. He squirmed for a minute, almost slipping out of Jon’s grasp, but Jon was able to pull him to his chest and carry him over to his stall. He sat down hard on the bench with the the little guy on his lap. Jon got Pat’s arms into the sleeves properly and rolled them up to expose his tiny hands, which instantly reached out and grabbed onto Jonny’s sweater.

“It’s okay buddy,” Jon said, working to unclench Pat’s little hands from the death grip they had on the material.

Jonny held Patrick to his chest, letting him bury his head into Jonny’s neck, little arms tucked up between them instead of flailing wildly.

Patrick sniffled into Jonny’s neck. He was still scared. He didn’t know what was going on, what was happening to him? There was something familiar about all the big men in the room, but he was afraid of them. All of them except the one that he’d heard the other man call Jonny.  

Jon was starting to calm down as Pat sat on his lap, hiccupping between soft sobs.  Pat! It was hard to think about it. This really was Patrick Kane. His teammate. His friend. Now a toddler… 

 

*******

Seabs shook his head in wonder.

“I should have known he’d let you pick him up. Guess it shouldn’t be a surprise that even like this, you’d be the one he’d trust Tazer.” Brent smiled over at the two of them.

Slowly Jon brought his arms up and hugged Pat. If he was the one Pat trusted, then he could do this. Pat needed him and as with most things, Jon couldn’t say no to Pat very often.

Duncs opened the door again and Jon motioned for them to come in. They would all need to know what was going on to help Pat get through this. It would be no use to hide him from the rest of the team after they more or less already walked in on them. Artemi made his way over to Patrick’s stall.

“Where Kaner?” Temi asked looking around the room.

Little Patrick turned his head and peeked out at the small Russian from underneath his curls.

“Kaner?” he asked in disbelief.

“Kaner.” Jonny said, resigned that this was in fact happening.

“Oh, fuck! This bad!” Panarin said, summing up what everyone else was thinking.

A couple guys nodded, flinching when Patrick started sobbing again. The man who looked like his bigger brother had said Patrick had been bad. Didn’t they see how hard Patrick was trying to be good for Jonny? Was Jonny thinking Patrick was being bad too?

“Me bad?” Patrick whisper asked Jonny, leaning up to his ear, hand clutching at the side of Jonny’s throat before looking back up to him through teary eyes.

It was the first time Patrick had talked at all and so low that only Jonathan could hear him over the talking the rest of the guys were doing.

“No, you’re not Pat. You’re not bad. You are being so good.” Jonny soothed, petting Patrick’s curls.

“You not mad?” Patrick pressed, tears still pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“It’s all good, don’t you worry. I’m not mad at you. The guys are just confused. No one is mad at you. Okay? No one is mad.” Jonny hugged him closer, feeling the little body finally relax as Patrick laid his head on Jonathan’s shoulder, eyes flagging already.

The change or the entire conversation must have exhausted him already. So many new impressions, no wonder he was overwhelmed. Jonathan watched him closely as Pat slipped his thumb in his mouth, his eyes finally giving in and closing all the way. He was out like a light.


	3. Team effort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left Kudos and comments on the last chapter, you guys keep me going. I'm currently working on Chapter 6 of this and it's giving me a really hard time. so anything you guys have to say, please do! I would appreciate some pointers, cheers, complaints whatever....

Jonny watched him, Pat’s lips tugging at his thumb every now and again, with a fond expression on his face. Little Patrick was disgustingly cute like this.

“Oh Tazer put the doe eyes away!” Duncan chirped.

“Did you already wear him out?” Soupy asked amused.

“Well he’s much calmer sleeping than screaming his head off.” Coach Q acknowledged.

“But how long is he going to be like this and what do we say to the media?” Brent asked the room at large.

“I wonder more about how we turn him back.” Jonny offered, lost for words himself.

“I don’t know how we turn him back, but I know in Yaroslavl we had same problem in KHL when I was playing for Lokomotive.” Artem Anisimov says.

“So you’re saying this is a thing?” Campbell asked, eyes wide.

“Guys!” coach Q interrupted them. “I remember hearing stories about this happening but I doubt any of us knows exactly what’s going on right now. So let’s not speculate until we get more information.”

Everybody was suddenly hanging their heads and really interested in the team logo on the floor of their locker room.

“I’ll talk with Stan and we’ll go with the standard undisclosed injury line for now. I think covering up the fact that Kaner is missing may be the least of our worries at the moment. We should sort out who takes care of him for now. Get him settled.” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, be glad the little evil screamer is sleeping for now. It’s our advantage.” Corey joked.

“My first thought would have been Sharpy, but yeah well, obviously…” Brent trails off, waving his hand about. A sour reminder that their old A was missing. Sharpy would have come up with a solution by now. Plus, he had Abby and two kids, he was experienced to say the least.

“Why don’t we call his mother?” Anisimov suggested.

“Kaner’s mom is best.” Artemi said, nodding along.

“I can call Donna, when I get home.” Jonny offers, not looking too happy about it. How do you tell a mother her 27 year old son is a toddler again? Mrs. Kane would have his head for sure.

“Soupy you have kids, could you take him?” Coach Q addressed Campbell.

“But coach, Lauren is already stressed out with the two of ours.” Brian complained, knowing pretty well his wife would not be amused about an addition to the family.

Jonny couldn’t help but feel a little pissed off by the way the team seemed to reject the task of taking care of little Patrick. What a bunch of fucking friends they were? He knows Kaner hasn’t been all too popular recently and hell, even he’s been pissed off by Patrick’s latest antics, but this was all but forgotten by now, because Kaner was a fucking baby!

“I’m doing it coach.” Jonathan announced to the room at large, still holding onto Patrick. He was the captain after all, he was responsible for his team's well-being and Patrick needed him, so much so that it was clear as day.

“But you don’t even have kids Toews.” Quenneville argued.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t take care of him.” Jonny deflected.

He wouldn’t let anyone have Kaner anyway. No one knew Patrick as thoroughly as he did. All those years of rooming together and competing against each other were worth more than a hundred childcare books.

So why should taking care of Pat as a baby such a hardship anyway?

“Are you sure, you don’t want someone else to take him?” Joel asked again.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be too happy to be somewhere else anyway.“ Jonny countered, the memory of Patrick crying frantically as Seabs just tried to touch him still vivid in his mind.

“Coach, I think Tazer is pretty right on that one. Patrick wouldn’t even let anyone touch him except Jon. So isn’t it pretty certain he would scream his head off the moment he realizes Tazer is gone and he’s stuck with any of us?” Hossa asserted, backing his captain up.

“Well, okay. So, Patrick will stay with you, Jonathan. Now I think we can wrap this one up.” Joel concluded, a nervous frown still firmly in place.

“But what about tonight’s game? Jonny can’t play if he’s looking after the little one. We’ll be down two men.” Keith objected.

“Well, that certainly proves to be a problem.” Joel huffed, pacing the room in deep thought.

“I can sit out one game. I know it’s not ideal, but given, that this being afraid of everyone doesn’t go on forever I’m sure we’ll find a way to occupy Pat while I take the ice. Just maybe give him at least a night to adjust to things as they are.” Jonathan pointed out, clearly not having any of the shit the guys were giving him.

Maybe Donna or even his own mother would come down to look after Patrick while Jonny was away and they wouldn’t have to even wonder how to keep the little one busy while he did his job.

“Okay, Toews. I’ll scratch you for tonight, but I expect you to report to my office tomorrow afternoon and we will sort the rest out.” coach ordered.

“Alright” Jonathan agreed.

“Desjardins, you will be filling in for Tazer tonight.” Q muttered, before wandering off into his office to call Bowman and the rest of the staff.  Surely, someone would know how to fix this?

Jonathan sighed heavily after Q was gone, getting out of his equipment and dressed, foregoing the shower in favor of not having Patrick wake up while he was gone and screaming the room down. He could still take one, when he got home.

Which -fuck- he just realized was the next obstacle. Patrick was still wearing his oversized jersey and nothing else.

“Does anyone have a car seat or a spare change of clothes to put him in for now?” Jonny asked as he slipped into his sneakers.

“I have a car seat we don’t need at the moment in my trunk, since Lauren drives the girls around most of the time. You can have it for now.” Soupy offered.

“And I think I still have a change of Colton’s clothes in my locker, for when I take him back home after a game. But they might be a little too big on the small peanut.” Duncan mentioned.

“You’ll need a lot of stuff Tazer.” Brent smiles.

As if Jonny wasn’t aware of this, he was already planning on taking Patrick to Target, right after he resembled a decent human being again. He doubted he even had any child approved food at home, unless Little Pat would suddenly discover his love for Chia seeds, so the grocery store was probably up on that list of errands to run too, right after calling Donna Kane.

The clothes Duncs got from his locker were indeed too big, but Patrick hardly fussed when Jonny put them on him. He just looked blearily up at Jonny through his half-opened eyes and kept sucking on his thumb.

 

*******

“Don’t you want to put a diaper on him?” Hjalmarsson asked, watching Jonny struggling to get Patrick’s little chicken legs into the pair of pants that seemed to be able to hold at least two Patricks and trying to get a little knot in the side to keep them from falling off.

“Niklas, we don’t even know how old he is, or how far that change actually affects him! Also, not every 3 year old is running around in diapers all the time. Not that I know at least. My mom got us potty trained when we were only 2 years old. And if he does indeed need some, I will make sure he gets some. Unless you tell me, you miraculously have some on you for right now?” Jonny grumbled, trying to not sound as annoyed as he felt.

“Yeah well no man, sorry.” Niklas mumbled, feeling a little guilty to have his nose up his captain’s business. Why was it even a surprise that Jonathan Toews was dedicated as fuck to taking care of a kid, while never having had kids?

“Does anyone else have any questions?” Jonny grumbled. Silence was all he received. “Good. I will take him home, get him settled and try to find a solution. If I do need your help I’ll call you. Well not you Hammer but anyways...” Jonny trailed off, before leaving the rink with toddler Pat on his hip.

He didn’t even feel bad for scolding Hjalmarsson, but seriously his kid was like what, 4 years old? And still running around with pull ups everyday 24/7. He’d rather call Abby Sharp then rely on the Swede. Which made him think that his second call, after Donna Kane, should probably be to Sharpy. Better he hear about Pat from Jonny first, in case it somehow got leaked to the press.

 

*******

Patrick was only half awake when Jonny carried him into the parking lot. Soupy handed him the car seat out of his trunk with a soft smile, making a silly face at the sleepy little one.

“Should I help you fasten it?” Brian offered.

“Yeah might as well. But ugh I just realized something. Kaner’s Hummer. What do we do about that?” Jonny nodded to Patrick’s flashy pride parked just two spots down from his own vehicle.

“I don’t know. Can’t you get it later?” Brian asked unsure, looking at the Hummer with longing eyes.

“I beg your pardon, Soupy?  As if I would be driving that monstrosity in good conscious. I have my standards.” Jonathan muttered overlooking his teammate fastening the car seat in the back of his Tesla. Campbell laughed at that.

“I mean if you know where he keeps the keys I can ask Lauren to bring me around and drop it off in his parking lot?” Soupy offered sweetly - the fucker - as if Jonathan hadn’t noticed how keyed up the defenseman was to actually get behind the wheel for once, a little boy’s dream and all that.

“If you promise to be careful. He will bite our heads off if anything happens to his pretentious car.” Jonny remarked.

“Of course I’ll take care of it.” Brian muttered, rolling his eyes at Jonny, who placed Patrick into the car seat, fastening the seatbelt and staying close because Patrick wouldn’t let go of his jacket.

“Okay, the keys are in his locker, should be easy to find, he has a little Tommy Hawk fastened to them. You can drop the keys off at mine later, just maybe don’t take forever I still need to run errands.” Jonny offered, as he gently tried to pry Patrick’s little hands off.

“Hey Peeks, let go, please. I’m just going to go to the other side of the car and get in, okay? We’ll drive home alright.” Jonathan cooed at him.

Patrick shook his head, eyes tearing up again as his little fists clenched around the material between his fingers. Jonny sighed, leaning in to run his fingers through Patrick’s curls, eyes level with him.

“It’s okay, I promise! I’m just going to sit right there so I can drive.” Jonny explained, pointing to the driver’s seat.

“No go, please.” Patrick whispered, too low for Soupy to catch up.

“I’m not going away, sweetheart. I’m not leaving, just going to sit in the car to drive us home.”

“Sit with you?” Patrick begged, little lip wobbling.

“You can’t Pat, you can’t sit up front with me. It’s too dangerous. I’m sorry, darling.” Jonathan soothed, waiting for it to sink in. He could almost pinpoint the moment when Patrick’s hands slowly did let go in understanding, giving Jonny free range to close the car door and hurry around to the driver’s side of the Tesla.

“Okay Soupy, you take Kaner’s monster of a car home and I will make sure to get Patrick sorted in the meanwhile.”

“I can bring a list of stuff you might need, if you want.” Brian hinted, but not pressing the issue. Jonny had made it pretty clear that he would call for help if he needed some, but it was never a wrong thing to mention, that help was on offer, if he chose to take it.

“Let’s see about that.” Jonathan mumbled, opening the door to get in and keep Patrick from waiting any longer.

“Okay, see you later.” Brian called, hurrying off to his own vehicle, while Jonathan nodded at him briskly, closed the door, fastened his seatbelt and put the key in the ignition to start the car.

“Hey Pat, ready to go home?” Jonny asked, turning around to look at him.  Patrick’s face was wary but he just blinked at him.

“You know I can see you through the mirror, so you can look into it too and see me. Makes up for sitting in the back, eh.” Jonny smiled, trying to make a joke, but Kaner just pouted, obviously still not satisfied with having to ride in the backseat. Jonathan was close to saying something along the lines of ‘If you were a bigger boy you could ride shotgun’, but thought better of it. He couldn’t blame the little guy for what happened, from all he knew so far, it was likely that little Patrick didn’t even know what was really going on. He seemed more confused than anything, so Jonny started the car, turned on the radio on low and pulled out of the parking lot and into Chicago traffic.

The ride back to his condo was silent, Patrick kept sucking at his thumb and staring out of the window and back at Jonny, as if to make sure he was still in the car with him and had not vanished into thin air.

“You okay back there, buddy?” Jonathan asked as he stopped at a red light, waiting for traffic to resume.

“Me okay.” Patrick mumbled around his thumb, eyeing the other cars next to theirs suspiciously.

“We’re almost there.” Jonny soothed, as he took the turn to the right, passing the Target he would probably take Patrick to once Soupy had dropped the car keys off.

 

*******

Patrick focused intently on Jonny as they pulled into the parking lot of the large apartment building. It was dark and scary and well, no. 

No! Patrick really didn't like staying there all by himself. His little lip wobbled dangerously as Jonny turned the engine off and opened the door to get out of the car, to go around and unbuckle Patrick.

“No go, Jonny!” Patrick all but wailed making grabby hands for Jonny from the backseat, his little body pressing up against the seatbelt that kept him tied, hips wiggling to get out from the restraint.

“I'm not going buddy, just going to come around to your side and take you out and then we go up to the condo, alright? Just like when we started, just the other way around now, you know.” Jonathan assured him, being glad the little front light in his Tesla was not broken any longer, pushing a button to keep it on permanently just to be sure that it wouldn't turn off the moment he closed the car door, before hurrying to get Patrick.

Jonny petted his curls before quickly opening the seatbelt and giving into Patrick who frantically grabbed at Jonny, practically throwing himself into Jonny’s arms.

“It's okay Pat, I'm here. Remember, we go up now, but first let me put out the light.” Jonny explained, heaving Patrick out of the car seat, placing him down on the blacktop before bending back into the car and pushing the light switch off again. His back twitched at the acrobatics it took for him to reach the button, but he rarely had room to move, with Patrick clinging to his pant leg for dear life and his shoulders wedged between the seats.

“Up, please?” Patrick begged the minute Jonny emerged from between the seats and closed the car door, pressing the locking button on the remote to activate the central locking. He picked Pat right up again, feeling his little hands clinging tight to the collar of his jacket for extra support.

“Thank you.” Pat mumbled, rubbing his cheek against Jonathan's throat as if he wanted to apologize for asking.

Something told Pat that he should always say please and thank you, it would be important to Jonny that he did, but he didn’t know how he knew that. As if on cue, Jonathan just smiled stupidly, ruffling Kaner's curls affectionately.

“Sure.” Jonny carried him over to the elevator and pressed the button for his floor to get them going, hugging Pat tight to keep him warm since Duncan hadn't had a jacket left to put on him. The garage was always so fucking cold and he cursed the missing heating and the winter weather all together. Thankfully Soupy should be over soon enough so they could at least solve that part of the problem.

 

*******

Patrick watched the numbers on the panel rise up and change with every floor they passed with fascination, which in turn made Jonny giggle. Little Patrick was amazed by the tiniest things, one hand exploring the undone button on Jonny's button down at the same time, turning it and swirling his finger around it, feeling the plastic glide across his fingertips. He struggled a bit to unlock and open his door with an arm full of Patrick but they managed eventually and Jonny was glad he could put him down. Patrick wasn't heavy, but it would certainly become a task to carry him around.

“Me home?” Patrick asked, eyeing the hallway of Jonathan's apartment.

“It's yours for now, buddy.”

“You home Jonny?” he asked again just to make sure.

“Yes, it's mine. Wanna come explore?” Jonny answered patiently. Patrick pretended to think about that, little face tilting to the side thoughtfully.

“Okay.” he agreed with a smile that was making his cheeks dimple, little hand reaching for Jonny's bigger one.

Jonny gave him a little tour through his small condo, for the first time being glad that he had gotten rid of the big ass house he owned just last season. At least he would be sure Patrick wouldn't get lost, since there weren't as many rooms to disappear to. They made their way from the living room, where Pat was awed by the size of Jonny's flat screen TV, to the adjoining kitchen, that thankfully had clever cabinets Patrick wouldn't figure out how to operate all too soon with the usual pull handles missing, before stopping at the bathroom, where Jonny got his first concerns of Patrick potentially drowning in the big bathtub. Patrick just frowned at the sink that was way too high for him to reach.

“How wash hands?” Patrick asked curiously trying to reach the sink or the tab for that matter. Jonny lifted him up on the counter smiling.

“Ahhh.” Patrick smiled, making grabby hands for the soap.

“Nah Pat, it's not time to wash your hands right now unless you need to do business.”

“Business?” Patrick asked, turning his innocent big blue eyes on Jonny in question.

“You know if you need to take a wee, you wash your hands when you're done.” Jonathan tried to explain as nonchalant as possible, but not without blushing a little himself. Was this even real, that he was talking to Patrick Kane for fucks sake about how to actually take a leak without getting into trouble? What the hell had his life become in just the matter of a few hours?

For the first time since taking little Pat under his wing, Jonny wished that his friend wouldn't remember this when he returned to his normal, big human self. Which lead him to the task at hand, that he still had to call Donna Kane.


	4. shopping for two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is still on Hiatus and will remain on hiatus, however I felt really bad to not give you the rest of this fic so I might occasionally post the rest I had written. This is NOT beta read. I'm sorry...

*******

After showing Patrick the guestroom, Jonny contemplated the logistics of letting Pat sleep in there by himself. He decided it would probably be safer for Pat to sleep in his room with him instead. Just for a few nights, until Pat became familiar with the condo, and well, the whole being a toddler thing. 

With the tour complete, they settled on the couch and Patrick turned those big eyes on Jonny again, all focus and passion. His little legs kicked against the upholstery nervously, since he couldn't reach the floor even if he tried, and he’d probably knock over the coffee table in an attempt to get down.

“Hey Pat, what do you think about calling your mom?” Jonny tried, seeing Patrick frown.

“Why?” Pat asked looking at Jon confused. 

”Don't you miss your maman?” Jonny tried again. Patrick just shook his head, eyes tearing up again.

“You make me go?” he asked, little voice wobbling and close to breaking, thinking Jonny was about to send him away.

“No Pat! No, I'm not going to send you away sweetheart! You're not going anywhere, we will just call your mom and say hi, okay? How does that sound?” Jonny tried to coax him into agreeing, hoping he wouldn't be too stubborn. Little Pat was not bitching, so Jonny counted it as a win as he dialed Donna Kane's number on his phone waiting for her to answer. It took a while, but there probably was some hang up with 3 girls at home. Maybe Erica didn't know what to wear? -  like always.

“Hello?” Donna finally answered a little out of breath.

“Hello Donna, it's Jonathan. Jonathan Toews.”

“Jonny dear, nice to hear from you, how can I help?” Patrick was leaning into Jonny's side to listen to the voice from the other end of the line, concentrating hard to understand the words. Jonny smiled, pressing the button to put it on speaker to make it easier for Patrick to listen too.

“Well, Donna I'm sorry to disturb you but we kind of have a situation at hand. I put you on speaker so Patrick could listen as well.” Jonny tried to explain.

“Hey Patty.” Donna chirped happily.

Patrick just looked at Jonny confused, who was this old lady talking to. It didn't feel like he should actually care or that it was about him so he frowned and clamped his lips shut, refusing to answer. The women on the other end of the line sounded so different than what he remembered his mom sounding like.

Jonny observed him closely, waiting for any kind of reaction from Pat upon hearing his mother’s voice, but he just blinked up at Jonny with a frown on his adorable face. Donna obviously picked up on the strange mood on the other end of the line, when Patrick refused to answer her.

“Are you okay Patty?” she asked, concern creeping into her voice slowly but surely.

“Well, Donna I told you we kind of have a problem.” Jonny couldn't help but sigh deeply.

“Jonathan Bryan Toews, what the hell is going on? Did he get his teeth knocked out again?” Donna pressed for an answer.

“No, his teeth are fine as far as I can tell. Just please don't freak out, I know it will sound freaking insane, but Pat is a baby. He's like 2 or maybe 3 at the moment.” Jonny tried to deliver the bomb shell as softly as possible, listening to her gasp almost scandalized.

“Jonathan this is the worst prank you ever tried to pull on me!” She exclaimed.

“I wish I was joking Donna, I really wish I was. But it's not a prank, I swear! Patrick is small, he's so freaking tiny right now and we have no idea why. I thought maybe you would know? Like did he ever do this before? Is this some kind of quirk running in your family or something?”

“Ha, Ha! Sure Jonathan.” she mocked him. “It's not even April Fools’ day, just saying. So if there is no better reason for you calling, I gotta go help Jess with her homework.” Donna replied, not taking him seriously for even a second. Jonny sighed even more. He needed to prove to Patrick's mom that he was not just talking shit and he couldn't even be mad at her for not taking him seriously.

“Donna, please don't hang up on me right now. I could really use some help with this.” Jonny begged just as Patrick piped up next to him.

“Jess! Jonny, Jess is me sister!” he smiled, delighted, obviously remembering that he had a sister or maybe even that he had sisters – 3 in total - period. Donna was silent after hearing his small voice, waiting for more to come, because there was no way in hell this could be a joke. The tiny voice at the other end of the line sounded exactly like Patrick when he had been this small.

“Yeah, kiddo. Jess is your sister and this is your mom on the phone. And you got Erica and Jacky too.” Jonny explained calmly.

“No Jonny no! Not my mom. My mom different! No Jacky. Me have so many sisters.” Patrick exclaimed, crossing his little arms over his even smaller chest in protest, one palm up showing Jonny 2 fingers.

“Why?” Jonny asked confused.

“This old lady, my mom is bestest. My mom young!” Patrick assured him in a hurry as if he had to prove a point, that he knew his mom and he liked her but he liked Jonny more and Jonny had to know that. Didn't Jonny like him as much as he did? Jonathan nodded slowly, trying to understand where Patrick was coming from.

“Oh Jesus!” Donna sighed over the speaker. There was no mistaking this. This was Pat and he sounded exactly like he did when he was 2 or 3 years old. She couldn't even come up with any Youtube video they might have used to cut that scene together, because that was clearly Pat answering Jonny's direct questions.

“I told you it's him, Donna. I wouldn't dare spook you like this. We have no idea what happened or why it is the way it is or even how long he's going to be like this!?” Jonathan mumbled, watching Patrick intently as if he would hold all the answers to their questions.

 

*******

Patrick had averted his attention and was no longer listening, obviously pouting and contemplating his next move. He wasn't ready to let go of Jonny just yet, so running off was out of question, even though he had the strong urge to hide somewhere, from this spooky old lady Jonny was talking to. Patrick blinked up at Jonny betrayed before trying to burrow closer to him, pressing his little face into the soft fabric of Jonny's sweatshirt in an attempt to hide away while Jonny finished up talking to Donna.

Jonathan sighed, not exactly disappointed but it was a close call. He hugged Pat, who refused to engage in the conversation again.

“Pat do you want your mom to come down for a few days or do you want to go to Buffalo and meet your sisters?” Jonny asked, feeling uneasy about the question himself, but Donna was insisting on taking care of her son, for better or worse.

“No Jonny no! No go, please. No make me, please! Jonny please! Please, please! I be good. I pwomise!” Patrick begged, straight out bawling at the mere thought of having to leave Jonathan.

“Don't you wanna come see Erica, Jess and Jacky, baby?” Donna asked over the speaker, after having listened to Patrick pleading with Jonny, sniffling and hiccupping through the words in a heartbreaking way.

“No! No!” Pat screeched, his little fist balling in the fabric, clutching onto Jonny so tightly that his small arms were shaking his entire frame, little body pressing up all along Jonny's chest, soaking him with big fat tears and snot in the process. He whipped his head around in a hurry, shaking it furiously to emphasize his intention.

“No leave, please, please!” Pat begged desperately, ignoring Donna completely as he wept into Jonny's shoulder.  Jon was holding onto him helplessly, his hand smoothing Patrick's curls and down his back in a caress trying his best to calm the shaking toddler down. He was afraid Patrick would pass out from hyperventilation if he kept this up any longer.

“Donna I think this is out of question, I'm afraid. I mean... you can hear it for yourself, that he's actually losing his freaking mind over the suggestion itself.” Jonny tried to explain at the phone that was lying abandoned on the coffee table, while he had his hands full with Little Patrick. Donna huffed helplessly down the line, feeling rejected by her own son and her heart breaking as she had to listen to him cry.

“Hey Pat, listen.” Jonny said, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “You can stay with me, it's no biggie. I promised I won't make you leave, remember?” Pat nodded tightly, his grip still not easing up an inch.

“But I think it's not fair to your mom. What do you think if she comes to visit at least for the weekend? So you can see her and she can make sure you're okay and you will stay here with me. I promise. How does that sound?” Jonny tried to settle on a compromise., that would make everyone remotely happy at least.

“Would that be an option Donna?” he asked to make sure they found a solution to the problem.

“Of course, we could do that. I can fly down this weekend and bring your dad with me if you want Pat? Just don't you dare break my son until then Jonathan Bryan Toews!” she warned.

“I wouldn't dare.” Jonny replied, suppressing a chuckle.

“No dad! No want!” Patrick mumbled into Jonny's collarbone.

“Okay, so just your mom.” Jonny whispered, thumping the tears away from Pat's watering eyes in an attempt to console him and asking Donna for confirmation, who agreed with a heavy sigh.

“Just pay attention that he doesn't go overboard with the sugar, you don't want him anywhere near you once the sugar high crashes.” She warned with a chuckle and making Patrick pout exaggeratedly with her words.

 

*******

“So, no sugar for you buddy?” Jonny inquired smiling after having hung up on Donna.

“Want juice!” Pat argued still pouting and making begging puppy dog eyes at Jonathan.

“I think juice is good for you. But I only have orange juice. Is that okay? You want to try that for now? We can get more juice after Soupy stops by.” Jonny reassured Patrick, who finally – fucking finally - had stopped trying to rip Jonny's shirt apart and was leaning on his chest still sniffling,his fingers drawing undefined designs into the fabric covering his chest.

“Juice?” he asked again with hope in his blue eyes, as if Jonny's questions had all but flown past him.

“Yeah, I'll get you some juice.”

Jonny carried him into the kitchen and got the orange juice out of the fridge one handed, showing the label to Pat with a questioning raised eyebrow and receiving an eager nod from the toddler in his arms. He got a glass out of the cabinet above the sink and filled it halfway, even putting a straw in, just in case, to avoid Pat spilling the drink all over. It was a miracle he even had straws, they were probably a leftover from some team gathering party thing last summer. Patrick happily sipped his juice, giggling over the funny noises his straw made, while Jonny held the glass for him as the doorbell to his condo rang. It was probably the doorman calling up for Soupy - who thank fuck had finally decided to show with the precious car keys so Jonny could proceed to take Patrick to Target. 

A few moments later, Soupy was indeed on his doorstep, knocking to announce his arrival.

Suddenly, Jonny had never felt so relieved to see another adult in his life. Not that Patrick had been any trouble so far, but just for the principle of the thing itself.

 

“All parked, I made sure his condo is locked as well.” Soupy told him, passing the keys over and making a goofy face at Patrick in Jonny’s arms.

“Alright, thank you Soupy. I’ll get a car seat for Patrick so you can have yours back soon.”

“Don’t worry. You need any help?” Soupy asked, fiddling with a paper in the back of his jeans.

“Depends.” Jonny amends, since Patrick still refused to be put down and Jonny had to admit, that the toddler was getting a little heavy in his arms, left alone making tasks a new challenge all together, since he was forced to do everything one handed.

“My wife made a short list of stuff you might need for him, if you want it. It’s a just a suggestion of course.” Soupy said raising his hands in a placating manner.

“Okay. Just leave it on the dresser.” Jonathan sighed, knowing fully well that it indeed might be helpful and that he still had to call Sharpy, before they went out. One photograph on the internet and Sharpy would lose his fucking shit and come right back to Chicago, abandoning Dallas in the middle of the season.

“No problem, just call if you need anything else. I need to get back home.” Soupy smiled, waving exaggeratedly at Patrick, before leaving the two of them.

 

Jonny said his goodbyes, closing the door behind Campbell before returning to the couch in the living room and his phone on the coffee table. 

“Hey buddy do you remember Sharpy?” he asked Patrick, who was snuggled up on his chest refusing to move away.

“Sharpeew.” Patrick mumbled around his thumb smiling brightly. Jonny took that as a yes and dialed his old alternates number.

“Toes! Oh what a surprise to hear from you.” Sharpy mocked right after picking up on the third ring.

“Yeah I already forgot what your voice sounds like.” Jonny retorted with a snort, making Patrick giggle. A dickface comeback would have been more appropriate but he didn’t want to curse around Patrick too much. There was still hope that this little, he wouldn’t have picked up such nasty habits and Jonathan had no intention to feed the cat a mouse.

Jonathan took his time to explain to Patrick Sharp what had happened, with Pat chipping in midway through as if he wanted to make sure, Sharpy knew they meant business.

Back in Dallas it took everything in the older man to not book the next flight out of town to stop by. Jonathan promised to keep him up to date and Sharpy promised to let him know should he find out anything about: How or why that happened. With that task out of his hands Jonathan was free to take Patrick to Target.

 

*******

 

The transition back to the car was an affair at best and Jonny was five seconds short of letting Patrick sit shotgun, but stood firm. He had to say no to little Patrick whether or not there were tears and snot involved. Usually he couldn’t deny Peekaboo anything but this was Pat all small and in need of help or observation however you wanted to put it.

At least he started smiling again when Jonny put him in the shopping cart. His little legs dangling mid air as he kicked the cart as if to make sure it would hold his weight, slobbering around his thumb and the edge of the pullover Keith had given them. The sight was so adorable Jonny almost forgot about the parking lot incident that had taken place just seconds before. 

First Patrick didn’t want to get out of the car and in Jonny’s arms and when Jonny had finally locked up his Tesla, Patrick’s eyes went big at the sight of the huge red  Target sign and he had struggled to be let down, attempting to ran across the lot.

His teammates were probably right he had no idea what he had signed up for, but fuck them seriously. Patrick was smiling up at him all innocent and happy, eyes still a little red and puffy but he seemed happy for the time being and Jonny rather see him happy than upset.

They made their way seemingly unbothered through the aisles and finding food wasn’t such a hardship. Jonny just cringed at the Fruit loops and other options but Donna had given him a short list of Patrick’s favourite foods via text message and he rather run with it than attempt to get the little one to suddenly discover his undying love for gluten dairy free diets or god forbid chia seeds. 

Patrick meanwhile had spotted the juice and was all grabby hands for the strawberry juice, Jonny tricked him into getting some sugar free juice, but put two bottles of the evil sugar flavoured hell in the cart too. Maybe Patrick wouldn’t notice the difference. Small sacrifices. Patrick choosing strawberry over everything else wasn’t a surprise, because Jonny knew how much he loved strawberry flavoured Gatorade. Chicken fingers and cheerios followed suit, along with some chocolate chip cookies Pat had begged Jonny for and the regular hot dogs, ketchup to dip it in, as well as some peanut butter, jelly, cheese and toast. Jonny felt like he was in hell - carbs hell, or gluten hell, both suited. But for Patrick he would make do.

As jonny grabbed for the hot dog buns, Patrick shook his head and protested loudly. 

“No Jonny no! No bun ewww!” and well small mercies it seemed. He could live without the hot dog buns, he couldn’t eat those anyway and Patrick obviously didn’t like them.

The girl that passed them in the aisle laughed at Patrick’s protest, winking at Jonny. 

“Just wait until he rejects the pickles too. It’s all just a sausage and some ketchup and they are good to go.” she joked, smiling at Patrick.  But little Pat didn’t want to play nice with the lady and leaned forward to hid his face in Jonny’s shirt and feel the warmth seeping through the clothes from Jonny’s stomach.

“Thank you.” Jonny replied politely petting Patrick’s curls waiting for him to sit back up again.

“So no pickles either, right?”

“Pickles ewww.” Patrick made a face and a gagging sound around his thumb.

“Okay, I got you covered buddy.” Jonny promised as they moved on to the clothes section. 

 

The choice seemed more difficult because Jonny had literally no idea about sizes. 2T to 4T sounded more like some far away village than anything else, but he just went with the easiest and checked the tags on Patrick’s current clothes, which were all 3T or 4T and decided to go for 2T just to be save. He picked up socks and underwear, some pyjamas, pull-on pants, pullovers, shirts and jackets. But he decided to take the jackets a little wider just to be save. 

Patrick insisted he needed the Ninja Turtle shirt he had spotted, even though it was way too big on him, but Jonny couldn’t say no, so he picked the smallest size he could find, which made it even more of a dress on Pat but a happy Patrick was better than a crying one. 

He checked the list Brian had given him, fetching some pull up nappies and other toiletries Patrick might need as well as a set of kid sized cutlery. A sippy cup was actually looking terrifying, but it was on Brian's list and Jonny feared he might run out of straws soon otherwise, so he put it in the cart alongside the other stuff that was already piling up in there with a night light among other things. 

While Target was big and fascinating he didn’t wanted to spent longer in there as they absolutely needed. Some women were already eyeing them and he didn’t need anyone getting up on his case about how cute Pat was, or god forbid hit on him and hand over their number. Just the thought alone made him cringe.

He was figuring out the different pacifier sizes, unsure if they would need one, but he didn’t want to get up in the middle of the night and run for it, if he had to, so he better was prepared for the worst case scenario.

“Red?” Patrick said, tugging on Jonny’s shirt and pointing to the pacifier in his left hand with the other.

“You want a red one buddy?” Jonny asked just to make sure.

“Red, Jonny red.” Patrick smiled and nodded which made Jonny grin down at him in return as he dropped 2 pacifiers in the cart and they moved on to pick out a carseat and a stroller. The car seat Patrick chose was covered in superman signs which okay Jonny could totally get why, Pat was a tiny super hero and his stroller also red and black, but mostly red was approved by him too. Picking out the carseat had been more of a challenge but Jonny simply googled “Illinois child seat law” and took from there, thankful for the detailed information saying: Ages 1-4

Children should remain in a rear-facing safety seat until age 2, or until they are at the upper height or weight limit of the seat. Afterwards transition to a forward-facing seat with a harness system. Use harness straps/slots at or above shoulder level when forward-facing. Harness straps must be snug on the child; the harness clip should be at armpit level. The top of the child’s ears should not be above the top of the car seat when forward-facing.

So he had Patrick climb into a rear facing seat just to realize that this was definitely too small of a fit, which was giving him home of Pat being already 3 years old rather than 2, before they picked out a forward-facing superman carseat. Patrick giggled as Jonny used his jacket sleeve as a wannabe harness to see if it would be snug enough to keep Patrick in it. He had wiggled in the seat a little, testing if it was comfy enough and deemed it okay, but pointed out that Jonny carrying him, was still his number one - which boom not that much of a surprise. 

 

Some cars and crayons for Patrick to color with joined their cart, as well as a small piece hockey themed puzzle Patrick insisted on having as they made their way to the register. Patrick hadn’t shown any interest in blocks or plushes and Jonny was glad he had him chose for himself what he prefered. For all he knew Patrick might fall in love with Tommy Hawk all over again and a stuffy would find it’s way in his bed sooner than later. Patrick might be small at the moment but he was sure he loved Hockey just as much as adult Patrick had and they would have a chance to pick up hockey stuff at the madhouse the next day anyway.

 

*******

Patrick seemed to be deep in thought when Jonny checked them out and paid for it all, not really caring about the total on his credit card. They could still gift all of it to charity when Patrick turned back. Pat seemed preoccupied with something and was trying to sift through some of the stuff in the bags Jonny had in the cart, that he could reach.

“Are you looking for something special Pat?” He was afraid it was already time for cookies maybe? But Patrick had other stuff on mind, obviously, because he ignored the box of chocolate chip cookies entirely.

“Blanky, Jonny blanky.” He tried to explain, lip wobbling dangerously. Well they haven’t bought a blanket, that much Jonny was sure of, he had enough blankets back home so this really shouldn’t be a problem. Other than it clearly was one! A big one.

“We’ve got plenty blankets at home Pat, you want to built a fort when we get back?” he asked, as he fastened his seatbelt, having put away their purchases already.

“No such blanky. Mine! My blanky.” Patrick tried to explain without bursting into hysterical tears. Jonny could see his water works struggling through the rearview mirror and he would do anything to keep Pat from starting to cry.

“Okay. Patrick it’s okay we are going to find your blanket I promise. What about you have some strawberry juice in the meantime.” he soothed, bribing the little guy, even though he had no fucking idea, what he was looking for. Patrick hadn’t had a blanket, when they found him and there was nothing in Jonny’s trunk except for the stuff they just bought.

Oh fuck his life why not.


	5. Blanket adventures

Sitting in the Target parking lot, he texted Donna Kane, hoping that she had answers over the mysterious blanket. He was about to set off home, when he noticed Sharpy had texted him, while they had been busy.

He obviously had been useful in the meanwhile and let him know that Pat should be back to normal within a week or two, give or take a few days according to Sidney Crosby and Alexander Ovechkin - what generous resources seriously, why hadn’t he thought about calling Crosby?

It should sort itself out, but nevertheless he should take Patrick to the team doctors just to make sure or Sharpy would come and kick his ass - which no surprise at all was 100% sure. While Jonathan was used to threats by one Patrick Sharp he could read the underlying worry in his old alternates words. At least 2 weeks maximum was something they could work with and he should take Patrick to the team doctors tomorrow anyway. But it was getting late and probably closer to bedtime for little Patrick. They hadn’t even had dinner yet - he was so bad at this!

His own mom would probably scold him and he hasn't even had time yet to tell her about the latest events.

 

*******

 

His phone chimed in the cupholder as he was about to start the engine. Donna had texted him back about the mysterious blanket situation. Thank god!

Obviously Patrick had a little Sabres blanket when he was younger. But she couldn’t tell him for sure, where it had ended up. She would go check his old room and his house in Hamburg for it and bring it with her, should she come across it, but meanwhile he should go looking at Patrick’s apartment for it. There might be a chance he took it with him for memories sake or something.

Well what other possibility did he have? There was no way in hell Jonny would buy a fucking Sabres blanket of all things in the NHL store. He rather grab a Blackhawks blanket from the madhouse on Madison the next day. But if he really wanted to make it to the tabloids he would go out and buy a Sabres blanket - hell can freeze over before that happened.

Patrick was flagging in the backseat, eyes already half closed and tired out. It seemed like he loved sleeping much more than being awake or being awake this little might take much more out of him, then it would as a grown up. The packet of juice was listing in his lap and Jonny reassigned himself to a car full of juice, before grabbing for it and putting it somewhere safe. If Patrick wanted more juice he could still ask, so far he had only taken a few pulls from the box.

“Pat, your mom says it’s your Sabres blanket you’re looking for. That right?”

“Mhmmm.” Patrick mumbled sleepily around his thumb.

“Where do you usually put it?” Jonny asked, as he drove out of the lot and headed over to Kaner’s apartment - he thought he might as well try asking him for clues, before they would spent half the night at Kaner’s. Not to be mean, but Jonny wasn’t looking forward to go through 500 pair of sneakers in his guestroom and whatnot if they could have the slightest chance of getting to the desired object sooner rather than later.

“In me bed.” Patrick mumbled, looking at Jonny like he had 2 heads or was extremely dumb. Didn’t Jonny know that he couldn’t sleep without his blanky? Where else should it be?

“Alright, so we are just going to go look for it and you can tell me if you want anything else to take with you. Also we better have some dinner ready for you, eh.”Jonny chirped him a little, but Patrick only shrugged his shoulders yawning loudly. It seemed like he didn’t care at all, all of a sudden, just sulking and sucking on his thumb. Jonny wondered briefly if kids always were this confusing as he pulled into the visitor's spot of Patrick’s condo. Thankful for the first time in forever that he kept the spare key on his key ring at all times for emergency purposes, and well a missing Sabres blanket obviously accounted as an emergency.

 

*******

Patrick sleepily grabbed for Jonny’s collar as the captain lifted him out of his car seat.

“Home?” he asked, looking around the garage.

“Not yet, we’re stopping at your place. Remember this is like a secret adventure, we go looking for your blanket.” Jonny explained, to ease a bit of the pressure should Patrick freak out or comprehend that he indeed had an entire condo. That might be a bit too much information, considering his current age. Or well in the worst case having 3 year old Pat figuring out he has an own bank account and could get all the toys he wants - well no thank you.

“Blanky!” Patrick pipped up, coming more awake at the mention of his favourite thing in the world apart from Jonny of course.

“Right.” Jonathan confirmed once more as they made their way up to Patrick’s condo. Unlocking the door and stepping into it was a little bit of a breath taking moment for Jon, because it seemed as time had frozen everything in place. It looked as if Patrick had just left for training as he did any other day. It was not over all messy, because his cleaning lady must have been by, but other than that, there were still a couple of sneakers at the door, some hockey gear peeking out of the hallway closet and one of his jackets thrown over the back of his couch, as if he decided not to use it last minute before going out the door. A few Xbox and Wii games scattered over his ciffeetable next to a half full bottle of Evian. The blinds on one half of his bed room were still closed, his bedsheet’s in order and probably new but that didn’t help the smell of stale air around them much. Patrick was looking around sleepily but didn’t comment or showed any sign of recognition of his surroundings as Jonny stepped into the bed room with him. The chances to find the blanket still in his bed, were slim, considering it had been made recently, but he lifted the pillows each in turn just to be sure should anything be hiding underneath. There was nothing, so Jonny set Patrick down on the bed for a moment, before looking under the bed.

“Jonny monsters!” Patrick warned, blue eyes big as Jonny got to his knees to cast a glance under the bed.

“I will scare them off Pat. Don’t be worried. No one’s going to eat me.” he chuckled, brushing a hand under it just to make sure he didn’t miss anything but it just came up a little dusty.

“Monsters under you bed too?” Pat asked concerned as he layed down on the comforter, watching Jonny check his closet and dresser for the blanket in question.

“No, there are no monsters under my beds Pat. There’s nothing to be afraid of I promise.” Jonny smiled as he closed the door to Patrick’s closet and decided to check the nightstand on the right side Patrick usually slept on. Of course he sometimes just took up the entire place on the kingsize sleeping diagonal or spread eagle style, but for some reason the right winger only ever used one nightstand to its full potential.

If he housed anything on the other side at all it was most likely some more packs of tissues or other stack up objects. The first drawer was cluttered with medicine, spare chargers and other stuff like condoms and whatnot. Jonathan wanted to actually give up, he really didn’t like to pry into Patrick’s most private places, only god knows what he would find, but he janked the last drawer open anyway.

It was almost empty surprisingly, but in the back corner he could make out some blue fabric peeking out from under some old Sports Illustrated magazines. He tugged on it softly, afraid it might rip apart from long wear and age and came face to face with Patrick’s beloved Sabres blanket, previously to encountering Jonny, neatly folded up and stashed away. It was in remarkable condition given its age but Patrick might as well had replaced it over the years. Jonny wouldn’t complain as long as the lost blanket had been found.

“Hey Pat, look what I found.” he teased, peeking up the bed, where Patrick was half asleep, eyes not really fixing on Jonny, despite being half way open, but he slowly made grabby hands, mumbling around his thumb.

“Yeah here’s your blanket buddy.” Jonny murmured, petting his curls and handing the soft fabric over, Patrick pressed close to his chest with a content smile.

“But you know sleepy head, we still need to eat dinner, and have a bath before you can crash.” Jonny mused, seeing Patrick’s face twist at the mentioning of having to take a bath. But they could push that one to the morning if needed be, it was nothing that needed to be handled right now. He picked Patrick up again deciding they could have dinner here, so Jonny could sort out Patrick’s kitchen to get rid of stuff before it started to mold and reproduce from Patrick’s absence. They could get home and settled afterwards.

“Anything else you need?” Jonny asked, before switching the light in the bedroom off.

“Nuhuuuh.” Patrick denied rubbing his sleepy face up against Jonny’s neck in a gesture close to a thank you - Jonny had picked up on that pretty soon.

 

*******

 

“Okay, how about being hungry?” Jonny smiled, checking the fridge over, putting some of the stuff into a bag to take with and the rest in the trash.

“No.” Pat insisted, but Jonny wouldn’t have that. He found Patrick’s secret stash of Mc and Cheese in the pantry and made quick work of it, heating one up with the microwave and putting a few packages in the bag to take home, scolding himself for having forgotten about something so simple and obviously essential. Patrick eyed the microwave skeptically as the dish rotated around and around in the bowl Jonny had put it in, until a loud ping announced it was ready to go. Jonny sat down at the breakfast nook, with the small kid still on his lap. It didn’t seem appropriate to put Patrick on one of the bar stools all by himself, too much danger of him falling of and cracking his head open on the tiled hard floor.

The dish was cooling off a little, while Jonny handed Pat a fork, keeping the spoon for the moment to find out how Pat would handle the situation. The fork seemed too huge in his small hands, but Jonny would assist if he needed to. Patrick was looking back and forth between his plate and Jonny unsure, grabbing the fork pretty low to the end in an attempt to control it.

“Go for it. Eat as much as you want. You don’t have to finish if you don’t want to.” Jonny encouraged him, aware that it was too much for Patrick but the packages sadly didn’t come in smaller sizes, left alone all the calories in there and Jonny couldn’t help him finish it, because of all the gluten in there. A very concentrated look settled over Patrick’s face as he scrunched up his nose and tried to dig the fork in the mess of noodles and cheese. He got it half way in and was struggling to pull it back out but he kept going nevertheless, even as half of the creamy pasta did tip off the end. It was amusing to watch but probably frustrating too and Patrick was impatient on a good adult day, so Jonny took his small hand in his own and helped him guide the fork without trembling out of the bowl, not taking too much of a heap to keep him from choking on the cheese or worse. Patrick let the fork hover in front of his face as if he was thinking really hard before turning towards Jonny and offering it up to him. Well shit that had not been part of Jonny’s plan.

“You hungry too.” Patrick said sweetly a twinkle in his blue eyes. His mother obviously taught him to share at a very young age.

“Nah, it’s all yours Pat. You don’t have to share. I will have some later.” Jonny tried to deflect.

“You no hungry?” Patrick asked earnestly.

“Nope.” Jonny smiled popping the p on purpose.

“Me no hungry.” Patrick argued, putting the fork back down and well no shit sherlock, he was a little smart ass. Jon should have expected that.

“You sure, aren’t you hungry Pat? I can hear your little tummy growling like a hungry bear from 3 miles.” Jonny teased, tickling him little, which in turn made Patrick squirm on his lap.

“You no eat, me no hungry.” Patrick argued between giggles and that made sense, apart from the point that there was nothing in Kaner’s kitchen Jonny could use as a probe without getting sick from at least not in eyesight. Jonny would usually bring his own food or order something he could digest off their favorite take out when staying over for video games or whatever. Fuck his diet regime 5 days from sunday, that’s when his eyes settled on the napkins on the table. He grabbed a few under the pretence of covering Patrick’s pants in case he dropped any food, before nodding at him.

“Alright bud I do try your Mc and Cheese and then you will eat some of it, deal?” Was he seriously making deals with a 3 year old, what had his life become in the past few hours? Patrick hummed in agreement, lifting the fork back out of the bowl and up to Jonny. He took the bite and faked to swallow which satisfied Patrick enough to go back to digging in the bowl for his own fork full, while Jonny coughed a little and hit the offensive food in the napkin he held in his hand, without Patrick noticing. He could get rid off it while taking the trash out. Meanwhile Patrick had managed to dig the half empty fork back out of the mess and tried to stick it in his mouth, helping along with his fingers and he smiled, despite the mess he made. Jonathan helped him with the fork some more or otherwise they would be sitting until dawn and didn’t scold Patrick for using his hands. At least the little guy was trying really hard and that counted for something. Surprisingly they made it through a quarter of his meal before Patrick turned the bowl away from himself and let the fork clatter onto the table top. He obviously was done and Jonathan could feel pride blooming in his chest at an disgustingly huge rate.

“There, wasn’t that bad buddy, eh?” Jonny joked, offering Pat a napkin to clean his mouth, before taking him over to kitchen sink to wash his hands.

“I like boom.” Patrick exaggerated mimicking an exploding bomb with his hands to indicate he was full.

“Alright, but you’re not going to explode. Good job.” Jonathan chuckled. Patrick smiled in return, glad that he made Jonny happy with that.

They packed up their stuff pretty quickly after that, Jonathan got rid of most of the trash, wiped down the counter top and left a short note for Patrick’s cleaning lady saying: Patrick was out of town for some time. They sure would have an arrangement for this, given roadtrips during the season, so she wouldn’t have to come by every other day. Patrick sipped the rest of his juice in the car as they made their way back to Jonny’s place.

 

*******

The clock was turning towards 7:30 p.m. when they arrived at Jonny’s place, who had a hard time juggling sleepy grumpy Pat and all the groceries, two seconds away from asking his doorman to help bring it up. Were 3 year olds even allowed to be still awake? But then again Patrick had been napping on and off ever since and only god knows how long he was a baby, before Jonny went to get him. He was probably fighting fatigue from the change into his mini version to start with. No one had paid attention to the clock except maybe coach Q but Jonny sure as hell wouldn’t ask him for details. It wouldn’t change much about the situation anyway. Patrick was rubbing his eyes and yawning as Jonny put the groceries away.

 

“You wanna jump in that bath or do you want to go to sleep Pat? You can still take a bath in the morning, but no way out of it.” Jonny explained all serious as Patrick flinched about the entire thing.

“You no bath.” he pointed out, making Jonny gasp. Damn the kid was smart and observant.

“I know but I’m going to take one before I go to bed.” Jonny amended.

“Now?” Patrick asked.

“Not now munchkin. I still have to call my mom but after that.” Patrick was eyeing him skeptically, tugging on Jonny’s shirt. “I promise.” Patrick wrinkled his nose at that and just starred at him with those baby blue eyes determinedly. As if Jonny didn’t know he was smelly from not having showered after practice. He could practically smell himself and he really needed a shower, but there was no time for it unless Patrick was asleep, because Jonny sure as hell wouldn’t take him along or let him unsupervised even for 10 minutes tops. He thought of Pat all on his own, while still so small, scared him.

“No want bath, yuck!” Patrick protested, making Jonny frown.

“What’s yucky about a bath?” he wondered out loud and seriously was he having this argument with tiny Patrick? What is this attitude?

“No bath, no want bath.” Pat insist and Jonny feels like he’s ready to smash his head against a wall, because everything about small Kaner seems to be about either arguing or crying a fucking river.

“Well then you have bad luck buddy, because we are so having a bath.” Jonny dead pans, picking Patrick up from the kitchen counter, where he had sat watching Jonny preparing a protein shake, that he transfers to his pants pocket for safe keeping just silently praying it stays in there and doesn’t go flying everywhere, before marching over to the en suite bathroom of his bed room. He plugs the massive bathtub and starts running the water, while Patrick looks up at him startled, little lip starting to wobble and eyes brimming with tears.

“No! No! No!” Patrick wails in protest, gripping Jonny’s shirt tightly as he proceeds to pour some of the strawberry bubble bath they bought at Target into the water, bubbles go everywhere.

He doesn’t let go of Patrick yet or makes him do anything, instead carries him over to the cupboard that holds his towels und sorts through them until he finds the softest ones he owns. Some his mom gifted him for Christmas and puts them onto the nearby cabinet. Patrick however started to kick Jonny’s legs struggling to get down and run off for all he knew, but Jonny just looked at him sternly.

“Stop kicking Patrick Timothy!” And he must have it bad if he uses almost his full name, that little Pat stills for a second, eyes going wide as he tries to comprehend the words. He is being bad and Jonny is angry with him. He might even punish him, from the  stark dark eyes glaring at him. It’s scary and Patrick wants to be good for Jonny, he really wants to be a good boy for Jonny, but he doesn’t understand! Patrick can’t even explain what’s the problem is, or why he is so scared of taking a bath. He just has this feeling of doom waiting for him, if his clothes come off. If there is no shield to the world and it makes him uneasy and shy and ashamed, but he is too small to understand it all or to have the words to explain it. He just feels that it is wrong to be close to Jonny without clothes on to protect him. Like something bad is going to happen if he lets Jonny undress him. Doesn’t Jonny get it? Patrick is so afraid that Jonny will punish him for being bad, so afraid that he can’t stop crying. Isn’t Jonny supposed to be good to him? Would he actually punish him? Did he make Jonny mad?

“No Jonny bad. No want bath!” Patrick cries and that must be the most words he said in a row so far. Jonathan really doesn’t know what’s such a hassle about taking a bath and he’s beyond done by now, so he just sits down with Patrick and let’s him breathe for a minute, hoping he might calm down if he doesn’t have to see the water rise. Jonny keeps an eye on it and shuts if off, when he deems it deep enough, without any danger of Pat drowning in the process and splashes a few droplets at Patrick’s face who looks up at him startled.

“See Pat, it’s just water, it’s not going to hurt you, will just make you nice and clean and ready for bed.” Jonny soothes as he pulls the shirt over Patricks head, while he flails his arms around, making it harder for Jonny.

“Stop Patrick, you are going to get hurt if you keep resisting.” Jonny scolds, before making quick work of the pants and little socks while Patrick squirms and does the best expression of a prisoner trying to escape death sentence. Jonny can feel a headache coming on and it won’t be a nice one if Patrick keeps being this difficult about something simple as a bath.So he grabs one of the towels and wraps him up in it, the moment Pat is covered up he stops struggling to Jonny’s surprise and he might have an idea what’s the fuss is all about. The tears also taper off and he just sits there hiccuping badly and obviously upset.

“See buddy, you can have even more of this snuggly towel if you just hop in there for a second. I promise I make it quick. How does that sound?” he tries to negotiate as best as possible, every compromise will do, as long as Patrick let’s Jonny give him a fucking bath for fucks sake.

Patrick nods hesitantly, still clinging to the towel as Jonny heaves him up and sets him on the edge of the tub. His feet can hardly touch the surface of the water, so Jonny proceeds to scoop some up in the palm of his hand and let it rain down on Patrick’s small feet.

“How is that? Too cold? Too hot?”

“Nuhuhu.” Patrick denies, shaking his head for emphasis. “‘S’okay.” he murmurs, avoiding Jonny’s gaze.

“Alright buddy.” Jonathan lowers him further down until he’s standing in the water and he has to give up the towel to keep his balance with his hands if he doesn’t want to land ass first in the wet. It’s a mean twist from Jonny as he lets go slowly but it was all he could come up with. If Patrick would choose to drown with the towel altogether, there would be more than enough towels in his closet to replace one wet one. Patrick hadn’t seen that coming and his eyes go wide as Jonny let’s go off him so he drops the towel and reaches out for the edge of the tub. He gives him a betrayed look, eyes filling up again, as Jonny snatches the towel before it gets wet and places it on the floor next to him.

“See it’s not that bad. I promise I won’t look.” Jonny amends on an after thought and that seems to do the trick, because Patrick sits down in the bubbles, splashing a little water with a surprised look as he discovers that it reaches all the way up to his chest, covering him up. He still seems a little wary, giving Jonny a little of a stinky eye, before piling the bubbles up to a mountain in front of him, watching them stick together.

Jonathan contemplates the need for floaties at that point but he has none, so Patrick need to make do with the bubbles. If he wants any, they can buy some tomorrow. He feels relieved that he at least got him to go into the bathtub and let’s Patrick chill for a few seconds while he takes a mouthful of his protein shake, before closing the top lid again and putting it out of reach on the floor. Jonny wets a washcloth and starts scrubbing Patrick down who squirms a little at the touch, but goes back to concentrate on the little bubble castles he is building. He only wriggles if Jonny’s big hand get’s too close to his private area, so Jon just hands him the washcloth and tells Patrick to try wash himself. Maybe this entire issue has been about privacy from the start and for the first time Jonny asks himself, when kids start to develop a sense of shame and self awareness? Or in other words he is the worst and fucking dumb on top of it. But taking care of little Pat is as much as a challenge as it is a learning experience for him. Patrick does as he is told, eyeing Jonny worriedly as his little arms move under water, obscured by the bubbles.

“I’m not looking I swear. We are almost done, you’re doing so good Pat.” Jonny reassures him, getting a small smile in return as he wets his hair, careful to not get any soapy water into Patrick’s eyes, before washing his unruly curls. He’s not sure if the kid shampoo will do them justice but it was the best option he could find without advice. Patrick doesn’t seem to mind, he is too busy smashing bubbles and building them back up that water goes flying everywhere. By the end of it Jonny’s shirt is halfway drenched, but at least he doesn’t have to mop the bathroom floor. Thank god for small mercies. Patrick is watching the water filter through the washcloth as he fills it again and again with water and smiles, watching it rain back down in the tub, while Jonny gulps down some of his protein shake, before setting it back out of reach for Pat.

“What’s smelling so good? Is that you?” Jonny teases, tickling him a little and making exaggerating sniffing noise, which gets Patrick giggling, because Jonathan might be drenched in bubble bath water but he still smells like a locker room full of hockey players.

Jon decides, Patrick could brush his teeth right there in the tub. He needed almost no assistance, of course the job might not have been done to perfection, but it would do.

“Alright  good job Pat. let’s get you out of here, the fluffy towel is already waiting for you.” Jonny carefully leans over and lifts Pat out of the tub before bundling him up in one of the towels and using a second one to dry his hair off. Patrick is hesitant at first, when the towel obscures his view as Jonny starts to dry his curls, but plays Peekaboo with Jonny in the meanwhile because it’s so funny the way Jonny says “boo” and it makes not seeing him for a few seconds not so scary. He makes it sound like Patrick is really special and important to him and his eyes do have that soft twinkle that promises “home” and “safe”. He puts him in one of his new pyjamas, despite the fact it wasn’t washed first, but he will make do for a night. Jonny is tempted to snap a picture because it looks adorable but opts against it. Patrick is already making grabby hands for him to be picked up.

“You really don’t like walking huh?” he smiled, bopping Pat on the nose, while receiving a tired glare. He seems more than ready to drop right off with the little grumpy pout he has going.

“Nuhuh…” Patrick mumbles, jamming his thumb back in his mouth and snuggling up to Jonny’s neck. Jonny was being silly with him and Patrick secretly loved it, the attention he was showered in, made his toes curl and his belly go nicely warm, instead of this cold knotted uncertain feeling when he had woken up in the locker room all by himself. Jonny made him better and acted as if he knew that Patrick was special and really important to him and that felt really nice.


	6. First night safe+ epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first part is the pre-written part of chapter 6 and after that some random notes about what this story was supposed to be like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it came to this but a lot happened and changed in my life since I started this story and I'm not in the right mind set to keep you waiting any longer and I doubt I will ever be at peace with everything life put me up with in the past. So I might as well spill some secrets before leaving you all to unfinished business.

**Chapter 6 - first night safe**

 

*******

 

“So bed time eh?” Jonny prodded, walking back into his bedroom. The low glow of the street lamps barely reached up here, bathing the room in a soft twilight, not dark enough to bump any toes by accident, but not bright enough to wake you up thankfully. He pulled the comforter off and put Patrick down, watching him crawl into the middle of the kingsize slightly angled towards the right side of the bed, which he even prefered in his little size. Jonny tugged him in and switched on the night light, by putting it in a socket over his dresser opposite the bed, so Patrick would hopefully see it, should he wake up in the middle of the night.

“Monsters Jonny?” he murmured, with his face squished into the pillow, holding onto his Sabres blanket.

“Ah there are no monsters in here I promise.” He bends down to pretend to look under his bed anyway, glad that his closet isn’t that obvious since Patrick does not ask him to check there as well, hearing the toddler sigh heavily in relief, after Jonny comes back up and musses his curls up. Patrick grabs for Jonny’s hand before he can pull it back and holds on. He obviously doesn’t want him to leave just yet, so Jon settles in next to him, cringing at his own tacky clothes that Patrick doesn’t seem to mind, he snuggles up to Jonny’s chest. “No monsters, they all sleep with Duncs, because Duncs likes monsters very much, they probably are having a pajama party right now.” he joked, which made Patrick smile sleepily at him. He feels a little out of his depths with telling bedtime stories but Patrick doesn’t ask, just holds onto him while he pets his curls very gently.

Jonny’s cellphone goes off in his pants pocket, making him groan, because the sound wakes Patrick up again, where he was on the verge of passing out. He quickly get’s it, seeing his mom calling and sighs. Well either way he was supposed to call her anyway, so he answers quickly.

“Maman!” Jonny sighs, trying to keep his voice down, while Patrick rolls over closer, renewing his grip on Jon’s shirt. He mumbles something, but it’s too incoherent to make much sense, so Jonny just soothes him, by caressing his back and tugging the blanket back in.

“Jonathan! You wanted to call 5 hours ago I was worried, mon dieu.” and there Andree goes off on a little rant.

“Je suis desole,maman.” Jonny sighs, the French falling naturally from his tongue after so many years of living with her and his dad up in Winnipeg. He did indeed feel bad for not getting back to her sooner but he took his time to fill her in on all things that had happened, especially to Patrick. She was just as surprised as Donna had been, but not a beat passed before she offered to come over to help him out. Jonny knew he couldn’t blow everyone off and that sooner rather than later he would need a hand in handling things. He had to get back to playing Hockey and since Patrick refused to stay with Donna his mother would be the next best thing - but it left him feeling truly sorry for Donna Kane, this must be the worst kind of betrayal to her if Patrick would take to Andree. Jonny noticed that Patrick relaxed a few minutes into the conversation of him and his mom, but he was not out yet. Indeed he seemed to be listening to their banter in French closely.

“So how is he doing so far?” Andree asked, listening to Jonny sigh.

“He is okay I would say. I’m not sure,but I’m going to take him to the team doctors tomorrow, maman. He had a few small tantrums if you want to call it like that and now he is tired and dead on his feet but refuses to go to sleep. Speaking of it you called when he was about to finally fall asleep and now he’s just kind of listing and listening but not sleeping. Right Patrick?”Jonny murmured softly, getting a yawny kind of grump back from little Pat, who refused to say anything, just peeked up at Jonny from under his long eyelashes.

“Well does he seem tense to you?” Andree asked.

“No, not really, more like curious and afraid he might miss something important.” Jonny replied smoothly, laughing softly at Patrick pouting up at him, as if he understood every word and knew Jonny was mocking him.

“I see, you were just the same at that age. Let me talk to him for a second.” she chuckled, which made Jonathan cluck his tongue a little annoyed. He wasn’t a fan of his mom pulling his pigtails, but then Andree Gilbert had more experience with him and David combined, than he had around kids, if you didn’t count the charity hospital visits that didn’t hold up to this amount of care taking. He pushed a few of Patrick’s curls away from his ear and held the phone up to him. Patrick’s sleepy gaze turned confused, before Jonny could hear his mom softly cooing in French over the line. He watched mesmerized as Patrick started flagging and admitting defeat, his eyes falling shut tight, sucking at his thumb occasionally as his breath evened out within the next few minutes. Jonny waited a few beats longer before pulling the phone away and getting back on the line with his mother.

“Chrisse, how did you do this, maman?  That was a miracle!” he gushed under his breath, slowly and carefully extracting himself from the bed without waking Patrick back up again, tucking him in safely.

He left the bedroom to finally fix the laundry on a small circle, so it would be done by the time Patrick woke up the next morning - considering he hopefully slept through the night.

“Oh mon cour, it is way too easy. I just told him about all the nice things you two would be doing tomorrow and whatnot.” she mused.

“But Patrick doesn’t speak French.”Jonny argued.

“I know that, I think he just needed some more warmth. You know how you get all uptight tense and serious all the time Jonny. It shows in your voice.You need to be soft and gentle with kids, that’s all the miracle is about.” she tutted before laughing softly as Jonny made an annoyed sound - she had him, there was no beating Andree in this.

“Did you leave the door ajar for the little one?” she asked as Jonny moved on to the kitchen to fix himself some real dinner, before he would put away the dishes.

“I did not to be honest maman, I got a nightlight at Target and it’s not even fully dark outside yet. I’m sure it will do. Patrick has never been afraid of the dark, when we were still sharing rooms in rookie year.” he told her in between mouthfuls of left overs from the night before - cold, because putting it in the microwave and waiting for the loud buzz of it being done echoing through the room, possibly waking Patrick back up again, was too much of a hassle.

Andree offered to come down help them both getting settled but Jonny held her back for now, at least until Donna had been around herself. She was Patrick’s mom after all and really deserved a go on this at least. Maybe Patrick would give into her when they were face to face rather than to a voice over the phone. They said their goodbyes and Jonny got to do the dishes and finally hop into the shower in his hallway bathroom, trying to make as little noise as possible. The change of routine threw him under the bus a bit, when he realized he hadn’t really stocked any of his usual to go to essentials in the shower there, but in the end the result would be the same, so he kept scrubbing the locker room funk off of his body and out of his brown short hair, before getting ready for bed.

 

It was only 9 p.m. by the time he put Patrick’s clothes in the dryer and those who wouldn’t be able to go on a circle up on the drying rack, while putting the heating on low. But he felt beat and barely made it through an episode of “Fixer and Upper” before he himself was drifting off. He got to his feet, shut off the TV and the lights, before retreating to the master bedroom. With the apartment bathed in silence he waited a few seconds outside the door but it remained quiet, indicating Patrick was still fast asleep. Jonny sighed in relief, but nothing would have prepared him for the sight that greeted him when he entered.

The bed was a mess to put it mildly, the sheets twisted and knotted, bundled up in each other, pillows on the floor and in the middle of it all was little Pat his legs kicking and trying to struggle free from the hold of the sheets, tears on his face, drool on his chin and eyes still firmly shut. Jonathan’s heart sored at that and he switched on the overhead light, sitting down on the edge of the king size bed and reaching for Patrick, untangling some of the sheets from around his legs as he went and not missing the fact that they were clammy and kind of wet, when he touched the soft linen.

“Pat!” Jonny cooed, trying to get him to wake up as he gently cupped his face, brushing some of the tears away with his thumb.

“Patrick! Come on wake up little man.” Jonny tried louder. The soft cheeks underneath his palms flinched in the worst gesture possible, something he hasn’t even seen grown up Patrick do at the worst of his days, as a whimper filled the silence around them.

“Patrick!” Jonny tried a little more sternly, letting go of his small face to shake his shoulder with as little force as possible. He didn’t want to scare or startle him, so he kept a gentle hold of one of his hands to give him something to hold onto, the little fingers clenching like a vice around Jon’s middle- and ring finger.

“Patrick.” Jonny repeated louder and it almost shocked him as Patrick’s eyes shot wide open, staring at him but not really seeing him, still clouded with sleep. If Jonathan was honest with himself the entire scene had something of a horror movie and he didn’t really like those for particular reasons. Don’t get him wrong Patrick didn’t look any like a zombie kid or any of the hunted childs, that suddenly come barreling down the path in the dark of night, with glowing red eyes ready to eat your soul - but scary anyway.

“It’s okay Pat, it was just a nightmare.” Jon tried to soothe him as Patrick struggled to get away from him, tangling himself back up into the sheets and started crying.

Jonny seemed so big in the bright light filling the bedroom ,as clear as day and the shadow on his face had scared him. Sure Jonathan was mad with him for wetting the bed? Patrick could feel the damp sheets under his bum and he didn’t know why that happened, but he knew it was bad news - indeed very bad news. He was not a good boy. Good boys don’t wet the bed. Any second now Jon would be charging at him for ruining the sheets, for not going to the loo like he should have. He felt icky and didn’t like the way the linen stuck to his skin, it made him want to push it away, but that would mean Jonny got to see him all wet in his ruined Pjs.

“I sorry... I sorry Jonny.” Patrick wailed his little fists rubbing at his puffy eyes.

“No, no Pat. You don’t need to be sorry. It was just a nightmare. It’s okay. It happened. Nothing we can change about that.” Jonny tried to smile. The wet sheets were not more than a minor inconvenience to him, he just wanted Patrick to calm down.

“Me bad!” Patrick hiccuped.

“No, you are not bad Pat. Come here we are going to make it better in no time.” Jonny promised, opening his arms for a hug. Patrick’s blue eyes watered even more at the gesture as he stared up at Jonny.

“Better?” he whispered through snot and tears.

“Yes all better, don’t you worry. We are going to get you cleaned up and the bed can wait till morning.” Jonny explained offering his hand up for Pat to take. Patrick slowly moved closer to Jon before throwing himself into his opened arms and pressing his cheek into the soft fabric of the shirt that covers Jon’s wide chest. Jonny sighs into the soft curls tickling his cheek, he’s so tired yet far away from falling asleep and despite it being gross, he could leave the bed to be dealt with for the morning or his cleaning lady. Whatever came first. He was just glad, that Patrick had finally allowed him to get closer.

After snuggling him for a bit, he lifted the tiny super hero up and went over to the ensuite bathroom, suddenly realizing it would be bath time all over again, but to his surprise Patrick was way too sleepy to complain much. Jonny explained what he was about to do in great detail anyway, just to be sure and Patrick didn’t even fuss much as Jonny got the soiled Pjs off his small frame and showered him down, before bundling him up in a warm towel and facing the new adventure of putting a nappy on him. The instructions on the bag were helpful at least and Patrick just blinked a little confused, but let Jonny do it while he proceeded to suck on his thumb, the other hand curled into a little fist rubbing at his eyes.

He was so tired and he just wanted to go back to sleep, having all but forgotten about his previous nightmare. The only scary thing left, was Jonny leaving again.

*******

*******

* * *

**Epilogue**

**Outline:**

 

>   
>  _\- upcoming next would be the weekend when Donna comes down to see it for herself, but I though of just glossing it over rather than go into detail because they talked at length about that over the phone and Pat made it pretty clear he has no intention of leaving Jonny_
> 
> _\- Q saying earlier at the start that they will go with the undisclosed injury line and maybe Donna will refuse to answer about Patrick's whereabouts and just snap at some point giving over that Patrick is resting at home and doesn't want to be bothered or something...._
> 
> _-Jonny gets Patrick to trust Andree long enough that he stays with her during games at the box so they can run with the excuse it's my cousins kid and she is unable to attend to her kid atm so we took care of that. you know be better be prepared for the future bla and he would probably redirect everything like have you seen Hjalmarsson's kid or look Seabs is getting a new one whatever_

**Pat is de-aged for about a whole year.**

 

> _\- he might turn back a few days after his birthday.. so maybe it's about a year. i never actually dated the day he turned into a kid other than it was in November during the season_

3 weeks go by and Pat hasn't changed back. He still allows no one but Jonny to touch him. They consult professionals it turns out trauma can cause this. So the investigation begins. Sometime later Deadspin runs a video of Patrick's attack. Now everybody knows. Rumors spread he's locked up in a mental.

 

> _\- the scene when the press gets wind of what actually happened about 3- 5 months later with everything going on._
> 
> _- the guy filming thought he was just taping Pat having sex in public and shared it Live on Facebook with his friends only_
> 
> _\- only at the end when the attacker talks he realises that Pat was assaulted. And maybe one of his friends laughs downloads it and gives it to D eadspin with Pat Kane getting some dick (but without mentioning who took the video)  then people in the comments argue like could be any guy and why share this is obviously a rape. And others may post some photos of Pat in the club and someone else goes: its grainy and dark but seems like the same backwards hat and shirt. And someone reports the entire article so a police investigation starts._
> 
> _-the guy post it, or he shows his friend, asking what he should do cause obviously it was an attack but still... and the friend hates Pat and the Hawks... so he gets the guys phone at some point (weeks later) and posts it...  but Hawks can't explain Pat's disappearance... and still claim undisclosed injury... so speculation on internet starts that Pat is in psychiatric treatment... and yeah... the stuff with it on the news..._
> 
> _-  Deadspin will ask the Hawks for a comment on Patrick's missing fantasy injury together with the rumors of Pat being locked into mental.  
>  I just don't know if a police investigation can start like that or do the hawks need to tell police? I'm confused how that would work. Because of course they want the video off the internet but its already all over the news. _
> 
> _\- That's how Jonny gets to know about it when he flickers through ABC News  and they show it. But then there is little Patrick having woken up from his nap and wants Jonny cuddles toddling into the living room with his Sabres blankie and he can see the video on the screen and stops dead in his tracks because he's scared and he kind of knows its him on screen but he doesn't know for sure too. Just short images and he cries silently and shakes his entire little body shaking as Jonny flips over wanting to go check that baby Pat is ok and finds him like that and rushes to soothe him.changing him out of his soaked PJs_
> 
> _-like when it breaks, Sharpy calls and says 'turn on the fucking news, Jon' and Jon doesn't know Kaner comes in until he hears a little sob and turns... Pat has wet himself and is crying and Jonny turns off tv and goes to him... and... yeah... all that..._

Jonny takes Pat to a therapist slowly helps him cope. Jonny slowly coaching him back to life and he knows because baby Pat sometimes will refer to what happened when they are at his therapist without actually realizing what he's talking about.

Patrick starts all over, Jonny teaches him how to walk on his own without tipping over, corrects his lisp… everything. Pat can't sleep alone on the dark sometimes he keeps Jonny up with his nightmares.

 

> _\- short summer wedding of Shawzy_
> 
> _\- during play offs there is the OMG everyone has a beard scare! (Pat freaking out about the play off beards because they remind him of the "bad" guy) so Jonny orders everyone to go fucking shave_
> 
> _- uncle sharpy needs to come for a visit_

**It takes a lot of time until Patrick feels save enough to change back.  But when he turns back he's not the same anymore. Still he goes back to playing hockey.**

 

> _**-** But I wonder if Patrick would press for charges couldn't it trigger a setback since he couldn't cope in the first place_
> 
>   
>    
>  _\- Jonny has money... Pat has money... they fly charter wherever they go without team, cause there would be less questions about who this toddler is Jonny's hauling around... which kind of leads me to the realization that the Hawks wouldn't really be able to hide a toddler being with them. Jonny will try to take him where ever he can and have Andree with strong af nerves taking over inbetween._
> 
> _\- Patrick get's sick at some point. his system is the same.. so he'd have all his immunizations.. so being sick would be like a cold or flu or something.. children's Tylenol or they have an infant's Tylenol can be given...probably other meds in child's strength too…_
> 
> _\- Pat would be in daycare at 3... but if he only cries without Jonny or whoever... then that's not an option... maybe the Hawks set up a babysitter for Pat.. and he's okay with it if she doesn't hold him and he can still see Jonny on the ice practicing... or whatever... travels with them to babysit during the games... again, as long as Pat can see Jonny he's not as fussy…_
> 
> _-might not hurt to have a stroller for longer walks... but would be cumbersome to travel with on team charter... so maybe jonny just resigns to carrying pat when pat is too tired to walk or if in a hurry and pat can't keep up…_
> 
> _\- will make pat watch Spongebob and those really old stuff Jonny finds on Netflix like captain america or Heman._
> 
> _-Jonny will get an aneurysm taking pat to mc donalds_
> 
> _\- I will make pat accidentally watch a part of twilight so he can bug Jonny that he wants to be a vampire like Edward before realising that its kinda scary_

**Author's Note:**

> Every Kudos or comment is appreciated, please refrain from posting hate. If you wanna get in touch you can hit me up on [Tumblr](http://turva-auto.tumblr.com) .  
> 


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